Necropolis Metropolis
by Eve Of Fire
Summary: Harry Potter sees an ANGEL, but finds no heaven awaits. Rewrite of chapter five. Voldemort's little weapon is no longer a prophecy, but rather an actual weapon, and he's lost the owner's manual. Sequal to The Lives Before the Legend
1. ANGEL

Necropolis Metropolis

Eve: Hey, it's me again!

Mike: US! It's US again.

Eve: … yeah.

Mike: You guys are used to our insanity by now and so no apology is necessary… Right Evee?

Eve: STOP calling me Evee! I am NOT a Pokemon!

Sarah: And her name is Eva.

Eve: … ouch, it huuurtssss ahhhhhhhh!

Mike: … get up. You really should be here for the first chapter.

Eve: …That's right… This is a continuation to TLBTL. It has a thankfully shorter title.

Mike: Yeah, you'll explain the title later. Right now I'd just like to thank all my-"

Eve: STOP READING MY SCRIPT!

Mike: Stop yelling, the spell check doesn't work on caps.

Sara: What spell check?

Eve: Anyway. This story re-writes the fifth year, starting early during the summer of the fourth year. It moves pretty quickly and probably won't be very long if you guys don't want it to be very long. Most of it just needs to be re-written so updates should be fast. I know I depressed you all with my ending to TLBTL, but that's how it had to end. I hope you enjoy this story as that's the reason for it. Also, please check out my other works. Same name, only on Fictionpress.

Sara: … Eva, explain the title.

Eve: (Sigh) Right, well Necropolis Metropolis basically means Death City, for those of you who needed me to dumb it down. You'll get the reason for it later, for right now just think of it as what the world would be like under Voldemort's rule or terror…. Teeeerrooorrrr, teeerrooorrrrrr!

Sara: So that's where all the coffee went.

Eve: Shut up you!

Mike: So, without further ado-

Sara: There is ALWAYS further ado.

Eve: On with the fic!

_I still remember the world  
From the eyes of a child  
Slowly those feelings  
Were clouded by what I know now _

Where has my heart gone  
An uneven trade for the real world  
I want to go back to  
Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all

I still remember the sun  
Always warm on my back  
Somehow it seems colder now

Where has my heart gone  
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger  
I want to go back to  
Believing in everything.

Harry J. Potter sat quietly on his bed at Number 4 Private Drive. Yet, unlike the other residents of the quiet suburban neighborhood that fine afternoon, his mind was being tortured with memories. While other people enjoyed the warm weather, perfect breeze, and the comfort in believing that nothing was wrong at all, the fifteen-year-old boy sat alone in his dark room, wishing his soul would float out of his body and allow him to rest. The Dursley's didn't care in the least that their nephew had been through a traumatic and emotionally scarring event that could possibly destabilize his mental stability into a fragile state where he suddenly snapped and went on a killing rampage to prevent having to watch anyone else be killed by Voldemort, or suffer in general.

No, they enjoyed their nephew's silence like a God-send and rewarded it by pretending he didn't exist. When they did acknowledge him, it was like animal had peed on their carpet and Harry was the putrid stench that they wished they could wash away foreverwith some bleach and a cloth.This afternoon they had decided to ignore the emotionally distressed teenager by going to a movie. Alone in the house, Harry Potter had been confined to his tinny bedroom. He'd cleared it of some of Dudley's old junk and had found a few books to read but, other than that and homework, there was nothing to do.

He couldn't calm himself enough to read through any of his books and other than re-living that horrible night and even making new scenarios in his head that lead to worse and worse things happening, all Harry could do was wait for some sort of wake up call. Some kind of sign that every thing was going to be okay and it was alright for him to be happy again.

Hearing the hoot of an owl, Harry eased the window open in a dreamlike motion and ducked as an older looking owl swooped in. The graying owl dropped a letter onto the floor and landed on Hedwig's cage. Harry stared at the new owl, not recognizing it, and then with a shrug he yank open the letter. It read:

_Be at the park at midnight. Remus and I need to talk to you._

There was no signature and the note seemed odd somehow, still, Harry nodded. He wrote 'I will be there' and the owl swooped down and snatched up the letter. Harry watched it disappear into the clouds. Feeling more alone than before, He slumped back down onto his bed and sighed deeply, wondering what Sirius and Remus wanted to talk to him about. Turning onto his stomach, Harry yanked his DADA book out of its spot and opened it, deciding to read for a few hours, then go to sleep so he'd be ready to sneak out at midnight.

That night, Harry Potter crept silently down the stairs, jumping the last few, and landing with a soft thud. He didn't wait to hear if his uncle woke up; instead he headed for the door. The night was sickeningly quiet and not even a cat was prowling around as Harry traipsed down the driveway and past all the anal retentive driveways that all matched and resisted even slight traces of individuality like oil spots or- God forbid- weeds. HOA was in full force, fighting the good fight against freedom, basic rights of self expression, and the right to be treated equaly. No,instead fought diligently and in a timely manor for the blessed cause of theiridoled conformity.

Harry wondered what they wouldthink about Voldemort traipsing through and bringing the real world to their door steps. The obsessive house wives with nothing better to do than watch their neighbors and sometimes simply drive around to give friendly waves, while keeping a notebook handy so they could report such tragedies as weeds, oil, screens that add color to he house, or what they could see in the backyard if the looked hard enough. It sickened Harry to know that as long as the yard was neat and tidy, there could be abuse, rape, murder, molestation, ANYTHING going on inside... Even Magic.

So long as it didn't spill out into their precious street. Then something shows and the rumor mill grabs hold of it, having nothing interesting in their own lives, and thus makes it even harder for the victims. It was like a whole neighborhood run by those spoiled bratty kids that only allowed other kids to play with them if they could make the rules and enforce them with an ironfist. The ones who'd rather sit the game out than allow another person with the posibility of a better idea to lead. It was the perfect cover for the scumbags of the earth to hide in.

Tonight, however, Harry was only briefly irritated by the houses. It was a dark night with no moon; which must have been why Remus picked it. When he arrived at the park, Harry saw no sign of anyone.The swings were twisted and abandoned, the teatherball was ball-less and tied in a knot, even the sand seemed dreary. It was actually a chilling sight as one swing still swayed, billowing in a ghostly memory. A playground was the purest symbol of innocence. Kids of different race, gender, religion, disability, anything just played together. Sure there were a few exceptions because let's face it- kids are mean.

Though they are taught that by their parents and the playground was an escape from parents. The playground was a haven from pedophiles, murderers, kidnappers, drunks, and abusers; all evils of the adult world. No, those people had to wait on the outskirts. Inside there was **supposed** to be laughter and joy, yet on this night Harry watched the vacant playground where all the happiness seemed drained from its once shinning and colorful dignity.

He sat down on a bench to wait, wondering what Remus would say or show him. As he gazed upon a jump rope hanging limply from the monkey bars he imagined it becoming a noose in which he could escape the world. His presence wasn't necessary on the earth after all and his '_family_' would have been much better off if he just disappeared. Hell, Cedric would have been better off if Harry had notbeen there. Taking his eyes from the rope, Harry had an eerie feeling that something was wrong and he should leave, but the lust for information over powered it. There was a crunch from behind him and then everything went pitch black for young Harry Potter.

"We're not falling to you! Where is he! He knows! He knows we lost her! He knows! Where is he!" Harry awoke groggily to the sound of someone's ranting screams. He opened his eyes, his head pounding fiercely, and saw what looked like the dusty old basement from hell. Cobwebs lined the walls and all around were rusty tools and shattered glass which was barely recognizable under all the filth and dirt. Spiders skittered around through the durt and some king of green fungus grew up the walls, making a home for all softs of vile creatures.

"For the last fucking time, who!" snapped Sirius, a large bruise over his eye showing that he'd gotten there the same way Harry had. Though, unlike Harry, Sirius was with Remus in a cage made from a dog run.As easy as it was to put up a disapperation charm, Harry was sure that there was one around the dog run. Sirius was pressed against the chain link, his teeth barred in a growl, while Remus stood silently beside him.

"YOU _KNOW_ WHO?" wailed a man dressed in a moth eaten Death Eater's robe who was currently clawing his fingers down his own face and seemed to have pulled out some of his hair. "You said: 'he's at Hogwarts.' But I looked all around that damn school and couldn't find him. And he knows we_ lost_ her! Without _him_ we can't find_ her_ and **he **will be mad!"

"Somehow I think you're speaking of three different people," said Remus, looking worse for the wear and very tired.

"You know who I speak of!" exclaimed the Death Eater, seeming to have lost the rest of his mind and all of his patience. "If you won't tell me then… Then I'll just kill him! _He_ would forgive me if I killed him."

Harry did not like that at all as the Death Eater suddenly turned towards him, wand out. He tried to get up, but found that his hands were bound tightly to a rake, the handle and rake part of which were inserted through the dog run. He pulled against it, but the rope wasn't loosening and the rake wouldn't break.

"Where is he?" hissed the Death Eater menacingly, his eye twitching.

"Who!" demanded Harry. "Voldemort?"

"NO!" wailed the Death Eater, grabbing hold of his hair and pulling.

"_Who_ are you talking about then?" asked Harry, trying to back as far away from the man as possible, though he only had a few inches of possible movement.

The Death Eater cringed and shook, moaning like he'd been physically struck. He slammed his fist against Harry's face and began screaming incoherently. "My job! He, the brat, his daughter, lost, fire! Kill us, can't find her!" He twitched and there was no doubt in anyone's mind that this individual was insane. "Kill the boy! He forgive us if we kill the boy and try to find the daughter!" He grabbed hold of Harry's t-shirt and brandished his wand.

"Avada-"

"Not yet you fool!" barked a smaller figure who was also dressed in a Death Eater's robe and descended the stairs with amazing grace. "He has just returned and already you are trying to complete his plans?"

"He'd want this," proclaimed the death eater unstably, his hand shaking.

"Did he tell you that himself? Because I thought he told us to wait for him to call us when he'd risen to power again!"

"…I…I don't remember that."

"Idiot!" snapped the smaller figure. "How quickly did you cower and run?"

"…I left as soon as I got word of his d-"

"-Had you went to the meeting house instead-"

"-I would have been sent to Azkaban with the rest of them!"

"And learned that he promised to return."

The man was silent. The figure descending the stairs was obviously female, though her face was hidden behind the hood. She had a beautiful voice that did not calm Harry in the least for he recognized the vernacular. She spoke as someone superior, someone who knew the truth from the lie, someone who was not to be threatened. The samepatternof speach as Voldemort.

"Why do you think those who were sent to Azkaban are able to remain stable?" she asked.

"…No, _he_ knows!" he pointed at a news paper article that said Sirius Black had escaped. "Said _'he's at Hogwarts'_ but I looked and I didn't see him!"

"He was looking for Wormtail, idiot!"

"…Wormtail knows where _she_ is," whispered the older Death Eater. "He knows, he knows! Where is he!"

"You arederanged."

"What?"

"Unhinged, disturbed, crackers, loony, crazy, nuts, batty, off your rocker, mad! Take your pick, you're a nutter!"

"…No, he was the last to leave but he didn't bring her," the man babbled. "I asked and he said we had to go to the back up plan. So we went to the back up plan. We kept her safe, but she got away! Wormtail knows where she is or how to find her!"

"Are you even listening to me?"

"It's not my fault she got away! I'll redeem myself by killing the boy and finding the rat!"

"Voldemort's weapon got away; Peter failed to bring the girl. Now Voldemort has risen, with the rat's aid."

"No!"

"He asked for his daughter, he asked for you. He already knows you lost her and he wants you to find her. Peter doesn't know where she is."

"Neither do I! She's dead for all I know. I have to kill the boy!"

"Where's your honor? You kill this boy as he is bound while Voldemort would fight him free? Then you wish to report victory to our lord?"

The man looked down at Harry, his eyes wide in something more like paranoia than surprise. He grabbed a knife from his belt and slashed the rope, barely missing Harry's hands. Sirius seemed set in a silent pose of fear and anger as Harry was pulled to his feet. The Death Eater first lashed out with the knife, which Harry only barely dodged. He was kicked and beaten, cursed and hexed as he scrambled about the room, looking for any form of weapon. He was knocked towards the stairs, over near the other Death Eater.

She looked down watched as Harry tried to stand even as his legs trembled with pain from the unforgivable wrongly giventhe short name of Crucio. The man stalked closer, but the girl stood still, blocking him. She moved only once he had visibly calmed himself. Harry knew that was something Voldemort would have done as he believed thoroughly in tactic and order. She began to move, but the man wasn't witign and threw her painfuly aside. Harry was aware of a very pissed of look across her face as she hit the banister and it groaned in threat. The man raised his wand and yelled,

"Avadakadaaah… ahh…erggg!" Though he was silent all the sudden and fell to his knees, an oddly perplexed look on his face, before falling to he floor. Harry looked to see the girl, wiping blood off a silver rapier with the man's cloak. She reached down and grabbed the wand from the man's limp hand and saw the fearful look radiating off Harry.

"You look as though you judge," she spoke and gave a small, comforting laugh. "He was dead long before I came along."

Harry simply nodded, not quite understanding, but the girl snapped the wand and threw it to its master's feet before turning back towards the dog run. She positioned her rapier in between the chains and padlock and pulled. The rusted lock came free and the girl pulled the chain out. She looked up and jumped back as she saw Sirius, as if just realizing the he was there. Remus, who was standing behind Sirius, charged forward; but the girl spun on her heel and ran.

Harry, realizing the danger, leapt forward in an attempt to stop her. If someone knew he, Sirius, and Remus were allies then they wouldall be in danger. Sirius might even have to go back to Azkaban. The girl was fast and avoided Harry as she sprang up the steps and was gone. Sirius rushed to Harry, not bothering to step over the Death Eater. Remus, however, knelt down to examine he body.

"Who was she?" Harry asked Sirius, hoping he knew.

"I don't know," Sirius answered evasively, dusting Harry off.

"Well whoever she is, she killed this man with a single blow..."

Remus and Sirius exchanged meaningful looks, but despite all Harry's questioning, they refused to answer him. It was obvious to Harry that they knew something, but even as they dropped him off and put a memory hex on the Dursley's, they refused to comment.

"Do you think they started the program again?" Sirius asked in a low whisper.

"From the looks of it, they never stopped. That ANGEL wasn't in the records from before," replied Remus.

Harry awoke to a rumbling growl that sent Gooseflesh down his arms and made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He groped blindly for his glasses as the smell of mold and dirt reached his nostrils. His hand hit something gritty and he realized he wasn't in his bed. His forehead burned and he rubbed it tenderly. Yet there was something strange with the sensation; it wasn't so-much a pain, more along the lines of something comforting. Like a kitten's tongue, sand-papery, hot, but not necessarily painful.

He let his left hand glide across the floor and eventually came to his glasses. Then put them on to reveal that they made little difference as the room was almost pitch black. There must not have been a window. A thin line of corn colored light brought his attention to the door. Harry's hand hit a splinter as he moved and he jerked back, surprised by the pain. He climbed awkwardly to his feet, using only his legs, and then padded across the room towards the door.

As he pressed his ear against the door the rumble grew louder. It wasn't a growling, it was people. He took a breath and suddenly a sense of urgency washed over him, like he was an Auror already and on some mission of utmost importance. He leaned his back against the wall, lightly so he could move quickly if he needed to, then he let his hand grip the door and slowly push it open.

A soft creak emitted from the hinges and he froze. The noise from outside the door continued, no one had heard. He grabbed his wand and uttered a spell so the hinges would be silent, then he pushed it open and waited. The noise was louder now and he realized that it was a great-many people all taking at once. He poked his head out and saw a railing; he was on a higher landing than the voices.

Casting all doubts aside, Harry left the room and emerged into an older, rickety house with two floors, threadbare carpeting, and candle lighting. There were dark plumb curtains covering the windows, some of the curtains were riddled with holes and seemed to be attached to the walls with some kind of sticking charm. Cobwebs had taken over the house and spiders inhabited every crack, opening, nook, and loose floorboard.

The voices raged on as Harry crouched and began to crawl on his hands and knees, slowly towards the railing. The white paint was fading and cracking on the trellis, revealing termite eaten oak. He stared down at the sea of people below him. They were all wearing dark cloaks and had migrated into groups of two's, three's, even some four's and fives. Their voices mixed together and drifted up to Harry, but he couldn't understand them. He'd need to get closer if he wished to find out what they were saying.

Crawling army style, Harry negotiated his way over to the stairs and looked down them. He remembered the Dursley's house, where one of the stairs would squeak loudly if stepped on, he assumed these wouldn't be any better. So how would he… ah, yes; his cloak. He pulled on his invisibility cloak and stood up. The choice of taking it with him had been wise and he vowed to never leave without it.

Harry eased onto the first step and crept down the stars as if walking on eggshells. He reached the bottom and pressed his back against the wall. He side-stepped his way into a dark corner and squatted low. The conversations were a buzz of excitement, doubt, and fear. Some groups were talking in hushed voices about the chances that they'd get caught, others were laughing boldly, calling other members cowards and stating that they'd gladly go to Azkaban for their lord, but he had needed a few loyal souls roaming free for when he was re-awoken.

A few groups were chattering incoherently as they seemed to be in a great rush to get out everything they wanted to say. Wormtail was amongst this group as he stuttered ignorantly, claiming he'd do anything for his lord, but was afraid. Harry's stomach tighten into a knot and he ground his teeth and clenched his fists as he restrained himself from leaping out and tackling his father's betrayer.

Through the groups of Death Eaters, walked a lone figure, seeming to be immune to all the rumors and instead trapped in a world of its own. This figure was smaller than the rest and stood out like a white lion in a herd of wildebeest. The only part of the face that Harry could see was the sneer-like smile. The figure suddenly stopped as if it felt something. It turned its head and looked towards Harry and began walking towards him.

Without time to react, Harry was trapped and the figure was coming towards him quickly, ominously. It knelt down and Harry stopped breathing as he tried to convince himself that no one could see him under the cloak, but what if there was a part of him left uncovered? The figure leaned close and Harry pointed his wand, it was snatched away by the figure, almost tauntingly. Then, raising its hand, the figure pulled back its hood and Harry stared back into the startling green eyes of… himself?

With a gasp, Harry Potter forced his eyes open and jerked up. He found himself on the floor of his room on Number 4 Private Drive with Hedwig watching him; her big round eyes staring in an almost alarmed fashion. Harry groaned and a prickling washed over his scar. He was breathing hard and covered with sweat as if he'd been at a long Quidditch practice and found that his glasses were on his nose and there was a splinter in his finger. Sleeping on the floor, it was no surprise that he'd smelt dust and had been splintered.

The young wizard heard the groan of bedsprings trying to support Dudley's weight and held his breath, listening for Uncle Vernon to move. There was a snort-like grunt, followed by a sound that mimicked a broken bagpipe that had its pipes pinched shut. The alarming sound was familiar to Harry, and a sign that his Uncle Vernon would not be waking up to tell him that his terrifying nightmare had awoken Dudley and he would be locked in the closet as punishment.

Picking himself off the floor, Harry wiped the sweat off his brow and stumbled dizzily in his steps. He allowed himself to collapse onto bed and heard the loud squeaks of the old springs. He waited for Uncle Vernon to wake up and reprimand him for such a noise, but the walrus was in a deep sleep with the help of the Tylenol pm he'd taken in an effort to ignore the sounds of Harry's quill scratching across paper in his 'nightly letters to his God father' which were really his summer homework assignments.

Harry let out a shallow breath and realized that he'd wanted his Uncle to wake up. He'd wanted some sign of life in the musky room, even if that life was screaming at him or using him as an anger management doll. Why? He felt sick and fearful, like the day before a really important event that could end life as he knew it and replace it with something worse. He looked over at his desk; his eyes scanning the paper and quill and then traveling to Hedwig. He could send a letter to Sirius if he wanted to. It was slightly risky to send a lot of letters to Sirius, but Harry had found that it was almost impossible for him to go a week without writing.

He'd either feel guilty for not talking to the man that seemed to care for him so much, or lonely without an adult to talk to that seemed to accept him for anything. He was the only adult Harry had ever known that might have rewarded bad behavior and punished him for turning his homework in on time all year long. Most teenagers might have blown something up to make their parents mad; Harry would have complimented Snape if he wanted to make Sirius mad… and himself sick.

Harry stared at the quill for a moment longer, and then looked away. He wanted someone he could see in person. Someone he could write that would come. Ron? There was a possibility… but he'd have to ask his mum and then she'd want to contact the Dursleys about Harry visiting and they'd say no. Hermione? She'd analyze the dream, but might not come and see him, living far away and all. It was five am; too early to call her and the Dursleys wouldn't have allowed that anyway.

With a sigh, Harry stared out his window. His stomach rumbled and it was a few moments before he remembered that he had stashed food. He was about to get up, when depression hit him again. He was used to being the scrawny orphan with nerdy glasses, an ugly scar, clothes many sizes too big, and hair that seemed to be a rebirth of Medusa's, but now it seemed he was also a charity case. Sirius was on the run from the most evil prison in England, yet he still sent Harry food and encouraging words.

His mind drifted to Cho. She was his dream girl, but every time he looked in the mirror he saw her drifting farther out of his reach. He'd always been told that his father was good looking and charismatic and his mother was a delight. So… why was he the scrawny nerd almost matching Neville as far as the nerd-o-meter went? Dudley gave a rather loud and pig-like snore and Harry narrowed his eyes, reminded of exactly why he was the way he was. He'd been noticed by girls only when he'd come to Hogwarts and only because he was famous.

He had often tried to drift away from the world he was living in and make a new one. A world in which his parents were alive and his clothing fit. Yet every time he tried he felt sick, like he was tramping on everything his parents had died to give him. He didn't have their looks, but at least he was alive. He'd seen them only a short time ago and they'd been so happy to see him, even though they were dead and Voldemort was alive again. Then there was another thought. If Hermione's parents could convert Muggle money into Wizard gold, then surely he could do the opposite. Then he'd head to the mall one day and buy clothes that fit. He'd drop his old clothing in a bonfire.

Then he'd ask Mr. Weasley to 'fix' his glasses, seeing if there was any way he could make them thinner. After that he'd go to a barbershop and get a real hair cut. Then it was off to find a plastic surgeon who could get rid of the scar and that would operate without parental consent and join a gym. Then he'd be able to look in the mirror and see why people thought he looked like his father. James had been an athlete, but with the food to accompany the active lifestyle he was leaner instead of the stick figure that was Harry.

He sighed; it seemed that the events of his fourth year were acting in stages. Sometimes he was content, but bothered, other times he was damn miserable with a touch of guilt; though when he took the happiness drought he was giddy, but really sick of himself sometimes, and tired.

Hedwig gave a soft hoot, hopped down from her perch and nipped Harry on the ear. She could tell when he was depressed and lonely. She turned her head upside-down and watched the familiar smile force its way across her owner's face. Giving up with staying in the foul mood, Harry patted her and watched the sun rise. It was nowhere near the perfect life, but at least he still had Hogwarts.

"You miss Hogwarts, too?" he asked Hedwig, looking for anyone to talk to. The owl nodded as she did a tightrope act back up to her cage. "You just really want out of this room, don't you?" Again the owl nodded. "Well, I do have a letter for you. Give it to Ron; show him you can upstage Pig."

Hedwig had been given the motivation she needed and was suddenly very dignified in all her actions. She hopped down onto the desk and waited patiently as Harry wrote the letter, grooming her many feathers as she waited. Harry had come to realize that if he sounded sad in his letters then Hermione sent an encyclopedia of a cheer up lecture and would talk of nothing else, so he tried to make each letter sound light, less they worry about him and get too concerned about his well-being to send him information.

_Dear Ron._

_How are things going? It's slightly strange how the year after we help Snuffles, Professor Snape just happens to have an extra-long homework assignment for the poor saps who couldn't get unstuck from the floor fast enough to get out of the classroom. Did you notice that no one else (even Neville) had anything stuck to their shoes? Even Hermione, but I think that is because he knows she'd enjoy the homework._

_I was going to ask her to do mine, but I figure he's waiting for that. So I'm going to do it and then type it up at the library. Er, that's the Muggle way to make a copy. That way if he pulls a "this looks like Ms. Granger's work so I'll rip it up and make you redo it," we'll be ready. Hey, I was wondering if there was any other form of communication that an underage wizard can use to contact someone. No offense, but this owl post is driving me bonkers. _

_I mean no insult to Hedwig, or any owl; but I want to hear someone's voice; even if it's a howler. By the way, if you send me a howler, please, please, please wait until after noon and tell me in advance so I can get out of the house and into an unpopulated area. I still haven't eaten that Bertie botts bean- yes, it scares me. No, I'm not ashamed- You wouldn't eat your half, either. It looks like pus, smells like pus, I'm not eating it. _

_How sure are you that Fred or George (or both) didn't make it especially for us? Could they make more so we can 'accidentally' get a certain Professor to eat one? Oh, and a few for Dudley. What kind of a cousin would I be if I didn't leave candy around for him? Thinking about it, I'm gonna be mad if this bean turns out to be vanilla ice-cream or frosting, or something like that. Then again, I'd rather see Dudley get a treat that I gave him, and not take the chance of eating pus myself… then again that's negotiable._

_Nah, I'm still not eating it… get Percy to eat yours. If it's bad then I'll give my half to Dudley, if it's good I'll send you half of my half. Deal?_

_Harry_

He finished the letter and gave it to Hedgwig, who bowed low and did her best to swoop off the desk and out the window in as graceful a movement as possible. Harry watched her go and smiled, walking to the loose floorboard under his bed and deciding this was a perfect excuse for eating the rest of the cake he'd been eating for the last three days. He took out a piece and ate happily, wishing he had milk. When he found that he still had half of the Devil's Food cake left he let out a chocolaty sigh and grinned as he heard Aunt Petunia screeching at him to come and eat breakfast.

Dudley was his usual larger-than-life self and was eyeing Harry's fruit salad with growing urgency. He flapped his thick tongue across his bloated lips and slobbered like a dog chewing on a rubber ball. Harry purposely stirred his fruit slowly with his fork, as if debating whither or not he was actually going to eat it. He took his eyes off the bowl as his walrus-like Uncle shook out the newspaper that was currently hiding his face.

Harry's aunt Petunia was craning her neck around in her usual manner, as if she expected someone important to show up any second. Harry gripped his fork tightly and stared at the clock. He'd been hoping that Sirius would have written by now and a soft coo of the bird would greet his ears, announcing the arrival of a letter that was thick with supportive words and claims of a 'good vacation.' Dudley took this opportunity to inch closer, glad his weaker adversary was not watching him.

He reached closer and Harry brought the fork down swiftly, barely missing Dudley's hand. It was clear he'd missed on purpose and as Dudley looked up he was greeted by an evil sneer. Harry knew the magic words that kept him from being punished when he fought Dudley off his food. 'Sirius mentioned I looked too thin.' Uttering that sentence would assure him a breakfast. Dudley would never be punished for his attempts as Uncle Vernon would just grunt something about 'Spartans in military camp were rewarded if they could steal food! Dudley is behaving to survive!'

Harry knew if Dudley was nicer he could have used this opportunity to make them both happy. A 'you convince your parents to take me shopping for REAL clothing and I'll let you steal my food at every meal' type of arrangement. However, the fearful look Dudley was giving him at the moment made up- in Harry's opinion- for one punch in the nose; so Harry thought of his current arrangement as free counseling. He picked out a piece of cantaloupe from the salad and examined it before biting into it and letting the sweet juice drip down his throat. Dudley whimpered like a begging puppy and something inside Harry erupted with joy.

He finished the melon and looked for the grape he knew was in there. His eyes locked onto it like a search missile. Dudley had heard 'grape' and thought of 'grape soda.' Therefore it became his favorite fruit. Harry picked up the grape, letting some of the juice drip down a prong of the fork and then quickly popped it into his mouth. Dudley let out the squeal of a suckling pig taken from its mother and threw his empty bowl at Harry's head. Harry ducked just in time and watched as Uncle Vernon was nearly stabbed by Dudley's fork as it was hurled through the air.

Petunia shrieked and quickly went to comfort her crying beluga whale and Harry took the opportunity to shove his bowl at Dudley and grab his glass of milk, retreating with it towards his room. He danced into his room, careful not to spill the drink, and hummed 'Ode to Joy' as he took out the chocolate cake. All thoughts of the dream he'd had, his chances of escaping the Dursley's being wrecked by Peter's escape, even the Death Eater that had seen Sirius were lost as he enjoyed his week-long celebration of cake and annoying his least favorite Seaworld attraction. Hermione had come through with a happiness drought she'd purchased the day after coming home and had quickly sent to Harry.

A bright flash of color blocked Harry's window and he looked up in time to see a giant bird, trying to get in. He leapt to his feet and reached his arm out the window for the bird to land in it. It did and Harry felt the massive weight and tight grip the bird had. He pulled it through the window and into the room, amazed it had fit. The bird deposited a coconut and a letter onto Harry's bed and went to get a drink from Hedwig's cage. It only needed to stretch its long neck to reach the water dish.

Harry stared at it for a few seconds, wondering where Remus lived that had such birds, before shrugging and dropping to the floor with the letter in hand. It read:

_-Harry_

_If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times! No, there is never a wrong time for an explosion. _

Harry was used to these sorts of opening lines as they served as easy amusement and anyone who intercepted the letter would think Harry had known the person for a longer time then he actually had or had even attended school with the person.

_Well, I'm enjoying my vacation and am looking forward to seeing you at school _

(Another line put in to throw off suspicion.)

_I figure that you're probably still worried about the girl, but forget her. She's probably just a daughter of someone in Azkaban. That lot is bound to be a bit off. Moony said to tell you (if you asked, but I'm not waiting because I'm not his year-round messenger boy) that you probably have a better idea of where his dog ran off to then she does, so there are no worries._

_Now, that statement will probably get you thinking 'what are we all smoking?' I don't know, but it might have something to do with Hagrid's "special" brownies. I hope you're having a good summer and the Dursley's aren't giving you too much trouble. If they are, let me know. Your owl is very devoted, but if she pecks me again for trying to send one of the birds here back instead of her she'll wake up spray painted orange._

_I heard dear Snape's being a class act git. Though I also got a two page long lecture to leave him along from your friend Hermione; something about a bucking broom? Wanna explain that? Anyway, things are going just fine here so don't worry. I want to hear that you've done something fun before the summer is over or I'm sending a complaint form to your aunt and uncle. How's the cake? I was assured that it was the best they made. Buckbeak says hi, he's enjoying the rats and I must say that my day is just a bit brighter when watching him dig into a juicy rat. I'll have to send a picture._

_-Snuffles._

Folding up the letter, Harry wondered how many other people had received a happiness draught from Hermione. And so a week passed until suddenly it was taking a longer tome to get a reply from Ron and Hermione. They also seemed to be together and every letter was now useless as far as information went. Harry got the same response from Sirius. Upon the loss of his Godfather's constant letters, Harry's treatment from the Dursley's became almost intolerable.

He began moping around the house, feeling the full weight of what had happened. Everyone acted like he'd be a cry-baby, though all he wanted was to snap into action and stop Voldemort before he killed more innocent people. Harry sighed deeply and decided to go watch the news with a strange hope that someone had been attacked. Yet his mind still traveled back to the night he'd seen the girl. Sirius and Remus were acting very strange and Harry knew something was up.

(Pretty much the same thing that is said in the book is said here and so we move on to the station. I'm trying to keep things fast as no one will read both stories if they're too long.)

Across the street from King's cross was a new age magic shop. Only it was designed to make those who hated that sort of thing merely see a shop that didn't look like it held anything they needed, while people into the new age magic saw a palace of useful items and trinkets and charms. That way no one bothered them about being there. It was a simple trick, but worked wonders against rioters who seemed to believe that if they protested the shop, they could rid the world of the thing they were jealous of. Magic.

Every year, there she sat, resting her head on her hands and waiting for them to arrive. One in particular she had taken a liking to for he was like her in many different ways. He seemed to like magic, as she'd seen a spell book once. He seemed to be alone in a world of people. She had noticed that he seemed set apart even among his friends. His parents didn't seem to like magic at all and shunned him for it. Hers saw it as a business and left her to actually know what everything did.

Once a man had come in, dressed in a pinstriped cloak, and asked her parents to tell him about the stuff in the store, saying if they didn't know then they shouldn't have them. She had answered the question and her parents said 'see, if our child knows them, then surely we do!' But that had been at the other store. This one had been here for seven years and she had been so alone until she had seen him. His parents drove away laughing and he had glanced back and then she'd felt it. He was magical, as was she! But she felt her magic was somehow different from his. He had a determined, yet desperate look on his face as he looked back at the two platforms.

She watched him for a while, what caught her attention most was the snowy white owl he had with him. That meant he was one of them. She was not allowed out of the shop much, because of her gift, so she had never came to know any of them. She gave them names, made up stories about them, and looked forward to seeing them. However, she never joined. It wasn't because she didn't think they'd accept her, it was more along the lines of not wanting to join. She was slightly afraid of these people… all except one. She smiled as the plump older woman stepped into view. She called this woman Maia, which means good mother.

Maia **was** a good mother and had a lot of children, all with red hair. She saw the twins and watched as their friend strode over, waiting to see what new thing they had invented. She looked down at the parcel, then up again at the group as he stepped into view. A smile snuck its way across her mouth and pulled her lips. Then she saw it.

"Procel? Is it your image I see on him?" The girl asked, though no one was in the room. "I have seen Seere watch him once," she stated, waiting for some answer, some clue as to why that boy was being watched so carefully. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers across the pendant on her necklace. The girl let out a sigh and shook her head, "oh, why won't you answer me?"

She stared back out the window as the boy laughed with two friends of his. She wanted to join the world he and his friends lived in, but only if she was sure they would mix with her beliefs. "Can you here me?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the boy. "Please, hear me. Talk back," she commanded… Nothing.

She supposed that he hadn't accepted his magic fully yet. For if he had then they would have been able to sense each other. She would have been able to contact him. Yet she never heard his voice. Even now with the correct symbols on the floor, with candles in the four cardinal directions and the runes of summoning, he did not respond. It was as if he couldn't feel it. The girl sighed and made a wish for the three to enter the store, yet again it failed.

She could feel it though, some grand emptiness in his heart. A giant hole. "There's something missing there," she whispered, staring fixedly at the boy. She heard a thud from upstairs, probably her mother dropping the last of the bourbon. This gave her time. She jumped up and grabbed a few more items from the shelves. Then she snatched up her tape recorder and plopped back into the center of the pentagram. She quickly created the magic circle and set the tape recorder on the window.

She propped the window open slightly and pressed play. The all too familiar sound of a school bell rang forth from the tape player. The one thing she'd noticed most about the boy was that he reacted differently than the others. Well, besides that girl with the frizzy brown hair. Her plan worked and the boy looked up in puzzlement. The girl also stopped.

They knew there were no schools nearby. The boy was the first to look over as the girl threw the herbal arrangement into the large northern candle. A puff of magenta smoke erupted with a few sparks and swirled counter clockwise around her. She locked eyes with him and immediately felt a wave of anticipation. Not her own… but his. She felt anxiety and slight depression. He was keeping a secret. Another wave passed over and she felt another sensation; a desire to be treated as an equal and not as a child. Images began flashing before her eyes and she stared at them all in amazement.

Trying to see everything, but becoming dizzy in the whirl of pictures. A golden ball- a giant snake- a reflection- a mirror of people who looked somewhat like the boy, with a blur between the two parents in the front- eyes peaking out of a turban- a grand field seen from above-A train- then- The girl fell backwards and a queasiness dropped into her stomach like a cold, heavy rock. She quickly gave in to the uneasiness and closed her eyes as all the images flooded together and she felt three emotions that were so deep, she doubted the boy even felt them anymore.

Desperate sadness, like what comes from a sudden, alarming death of a family member… members probably, as there was loneliness within the grief. Then love. A very strong love… or more like a longing for something, or someone. This was followed by guilt and worry mixed together with the sadness. Depression, longing, guilt. From long, long ago. She heard a cry, the voice was sweet, though it seemed desperate; it echoed hauntingly:

'I'm with you Lion!'

(Ahem, hey guys, down here! It's time again for my Just-So-You-Know, section. Today we shall cover Procel and Seere. PROCEL, appears in the form of an angel. SEERE- a mighty prince, appearing in the form of a beautiful man on a strong winged horse. On a final note: I do not include many details so magickal spells as too much controversy arises. Instead I ask that you accept the rituals in this story as dramatized. I have researched each individual source (runes, symbols, herbs, ect.) but do not wish to include fully real spells incase someone out there copies them and gets more than they can handle and promptly sues me. Heh heh, I got five dollars, don't bother suing. On that note. The characters in the HP books belong to (duh) the author of said books and only new characters belong to me, but you know that as this is a fanfic. )


	2. Broken By Sorrow

Eve: Heya, thanks for reviewing… all both of you… Anyway!

Sarah: Oooh, your second reviewer wants to know if the girl is Kira?

Mike: Didn't you kill her? I distinctly remember giving you crap about killing her.

Eve: hmm… (singing) I'm not gonna tell you.

Mike: … So… (Evil grin) When is Harry going to be born?

Eve: You are NOT fricking serious!

Sara: Yeah-

Eve: Here's the deal readers. I'm writing this like a re-write of the fifth year. But I'm not gonna re-type book five so just assume that everyone basically knows everything they learn in book 5, but Sirius is alive, Umbridge is there, Harry doesn't know his destiny is to kill Voldemort, and Fred and George are still at Hogwarts.

Mike: That helps, but when is Harry going to be born?

Eve: I hate you. On with the Fic!

fractured life your silence heard.

it's what you didn't want what other didn't see.

painful past you'd rather die than try to explain how it hurts

inside.

don't you think their future's filled with dire problems?

you clench your fist you close your eyes.

don't point the blame you might find yourself the same.

you terrify you dare deny this poor kids life there's not much

more

to identify when something's wrong the end is near

there's not much more that i can do.

you took it all their innocence left behind

with scars and shameful tears it doesn't need to be this way

it seems that it will never go away

---

Harry Potter, the Weasley's, and Hermione Granger sat in the library on the first Saturday of term looking through old archives. Most of what they found was alarming. The earliest report of Lord Voldemort was on the fifth page and held the title: Crazy Wizard Makes a Bold Announcement. The article went on to say: Emerging from a cloud of smoke, a Wizard who has yet to be identified, announced that things were going to change and people were going to pay for their arrogance. "I think it is time you bowed down to a new leader, and learned how truly bad things can get," he stated.

"You let filth walk among you and mix with your blood. They are below you, and you are below me," he continued. The filth he is speaking of is undoubtedly Muggle-born wizards and those with mixed Muggle heritage. It is this reporter's opinion that the man needs some psychiatric help, and most likely a nap.

The next article they found was on the fourth page, near the top, and was titled: Crazed Wizard Follows His Promise. And went on to say: The mysterious man was spotted yesterday outside a Muggle orphanage. He had the headmaster and some of the staff hanging upside-down above his head. The Zagan Riders who tried to stop him, 35 year old Megan Ramzie, and 41 year old Brian O'Connel, were denounced as traitors and knocked out by the man, who was heard trying to explain their superiority to the trash above his head. More riders showed up and took control of the scene, but the mystery man got away.

The next article, again on the fourth page was titled: V Stands for Villain. The mysterious man strikes again, flashing a symbol in the sky that witnesses described as green stars forming a skull and snake with a v on the forehead. This time the menace not only embarrassed the young Muggle couple he captured, but controlled them completely! Alexia Mirando and her boyfriend Jason Simula were caught passing out and posting letters from the mystery man. When Zagan Rider, Phillip Quartz, arrived on the scene the couple began attacking him. Keeping his head, Phillip used his years of training to subdue the couple without harm. He recovered the fliers, all of which held a spell that when spoken shot out a symbol with a V.

The next article appeared on the front page and the title declared in big block letters: Voldemort. It read: The mysterious Mr. V, now known as Voldemort, attacked a group of Muggles in broad daylight. Witnesses say the symbol shot into the air and a thunderous storm deafened the group. When Ministry Aurors arrived on the scene, they were disgusted by the sight of the Muggles lurching on the ground, screaming. They were attacked as well, by Voldemort. A rider, whose face was not seen, arrived shortly through the incident. He was mounted upon a beautiful stallion with a chocolate mane, a body that was a brilliant gold until the rump, which was silver with traces of black, a tail of gold with black a foot from the end, and black legs with silver hooves.

This Rider fought Voldemort, but there was no winner as Voldemort apperated away after the rider freed the Ministry employees from Voldemort's spell. The Rider was unavailable for comment and instead loped off. The Zagan Academy welcomed reporters on to its premises, and said that Voldemort had a grudge against them, though they would not release why, nor would they disclose the name of the rider.

The next title was: Voldemort Kills! After that came: Oh, Lord! It included that Voldemort was announcing himself as Lord Voldemort. The articles began painting a grim picture that proved just how unprepared the community was for Voldemort. They were absolutely puzzled as to why Voldemort was doing what he was doing and positively flabbergasted when they learned he was gaining supporters.

The headlines cried out for answers in big bold letters and it wasn't long before the paper consisted of nothing but reports of Voldemort's actions, public outcries for a solution, and obituaries. Harry flipped through seven years of articles and found himself fully accepting how bad things were going to get. However, there was not mentioning of a weapon. Then Harry read the headline: Suicide Seven! Harry looked to see a giant picture, playing out like a movie. It was clear that the cameraman was the only one allowed in there as he stood behind Fudge. There was a man dressed in a strange robe with importance written all over him. He was sitting on a throne, this graying hair not matching his younger-looking face.

All around him, sitting in smaller chairs, were other men dressed in cloaks of elaborate design. There were too many to count, but the camera was focused only on the ten closest to the man on the throne. Directly behind the other men, were younger men and women, sitting stiff with perfect posture, hands resting on their knees, eyes straight ahead. The man on the throne nodded his head when all the movement in the room stopped. He rose to his feet and walked forward.

"Thank you all for coming so hastily." Said a voice from inside the picture. Hermione and Ron leaned closer and Fred and George looked over Harry's shoulders while Ginny leaned up on the table so she could see as well. "I trust you have all been briefed so I will not burden you with details. We must act quickly. Each guild will be in charge of a certain task. You all know the procedure. Will the heads of each guild please gather forward?"

"What is this?" Ron whispered.

"Shh," Harry hissed.

The entire room turned their heads towards the lower level in unison. The guild leaders quickly gathered there and stood at attention, awaiting an explanation.

"Will the advanced Rider class please stand up?" the man, who was announced as Clef by a scroll near the bottom of the picture, seemed strong, yet his voice had a tone of sorrow.

The men and women sitting in the chairs behind the other men stood up, though there was a tinny hint of nervousness in their actions. It was obvious that this was new.

"Sorry for the confusion, but the Ministry Of Magic had advised that half of the professional Riders stay here. We need to be prepared for reinforcements said to be joining the enemy" Clef explained. Then he paused and looked towards the heads of the guilds and the professors. "Professors of each guild. Your students are standing now. You are aware of their weaknesses, and their strong points. Pick your best two from each class."

The room was quiet as the guild leaders met with the professors to pick four students to represent their guild. When they were finished they called out the names. Every student who was called went down to the main floor. They looked straight ahead and were silent.

"Now, there are a few Graduated riders here. Not yet professional so you live here. You have a guild supervisor," Clef explained so that the Ministry Representative would know what he was talking about. "Will the supervisors of these riders please step forward?"

Murmurs were heard through out the crowd as the graduated student supervisors stood.

"The same goes for you. Pick your best." Clef ordered.

The picked riders headed down the stairs and stood beside the students. Clef turned so that he was looking only at the students and graduated students. He addressed only them.

"You are chosen as the tops of your classes. Even though you are young, I have no choice except to have you initiate the counter attack."

There was noticeable alarm among the students. It sounded like they were being sent to die.

"The front line will consist of our strongest fighters amongst you" Clef announced. "Then the second line will attack from here and here," Clef pointed to some hills on a map. "After the second line is finished. The healers will follow with back up consisting of the other student classes. The front line will consist of…" he paused and looked among the students and graduated students.

It was clear that this speech brought him pain and he hated it. Yet he had to go on for a reason Harry wasn't sure about. It sounded like they were sending kids out to fight a loosing battle. _'That's the ministry for you'_ Harry thought sourly. _'Always messing good things up.'_ Clef continued, holding the list he'd been given by a stocky man to his right. When he spoke again, his voice was powerful even with its despair.

"Trevor, age 27, Zagan Rider in training, Graduated student. Along with his horse, Ocius, born of Velox." Clef paused to stare down at the young face of the rider, who nodded, looking slightly stunned, and stepped back. "Paula, age 29, Zagan Rider in training, Graduated student. And horse, Daisy, born of Amarion"

As the names were called, the ones chosen would step forward and either nod of shake their heads. No one seemed to be blaming the ones that said no, some of the riders even seemed to congratulate those who refused the mission. Yet for every one that said no, one of the others knew they had to say yes. It was easy to tell who thought they'd be called because they began looking troubled with each no. Still, no one seemed angry as had they been called earlier they might also have said no.

"Sandra, age 28, Zagan Rider in training, Graduated student. Horse, Lightstep, born of Velox. Zalik, age 29, Zagan Rider in training, Graduated student. Horse, Tanius, born of Tarek. Lyle, age 26, Zagan Rider in training, Graduated student. Horse, Zippo, born of Natao. Foramier, age 25, Zagan Rider in training, Graduated student. Horse, Quaf, born of Utamis."

There was a very long pause as Clef counted the ones that had said yes. He seemed to struggle with the decision before saying another name, one that caught everyone by surprise. "And Cota, age 19, Zagan Rider in training, Student, Squire to Lord Potter. Horse, Patrick, born of Shadowhisp."

"WHAT?" bellowed Harry loudly, his eyes scanning the page for the name again. It had taken him a second or two to register what he'd heard but now he was on full alert.

"What's going on here?" asked the prissy voice of a little girl struggling not to cry.

Umbridge entered the room and her toad-like face erupted in panic. "No!" She snapped, whipping her wand out and casting a spell that sent the archives shooting towards the bin the teenagers had found them in.

"Hey!" yelled Harry. He lunged forward and took hold of the article they'd been looking at and pulled. Umbridge snatched it and yanked hard. She was surprisingly strong for her size and pinkness and Harry was pulled forward, snarling dangerously at her.

Ron grabbed him around the waist and tugged sharply, soon with both Fred and George behind him, pulling as well. Hermione and Ginny stayed on the sidelines, screaming at both sides to knock it off. Umbridge and her spell tugged with all they had, but the four boys had determination and numbers on their side. The article was enchanted not to rip so there wasn't any concern there. The tug-of-war continued as both sides strained and growled at the other.

"Let go, you Hag!" hissed Harry, his words spitting out from his mouth like a cobra's venom.

Umbridge brought up her wand and cast a rather nasty spell upon Harry, who was forced to let go. They fell to a heap on the floor, having lost the battle.

"My word!" Umbridge shrieked, shoving the article into the bin, which she then sealed with a locking spell none of them had ever heard before. "I expect more or students your age, but perhaps my standards are too high for your lot!"

"Please, ma'am," pleaded Hermione. "Those articles are for public use. We're allowed to see them."

"Not when I know they're for spreading those horrible lies," scolded Umbridge, straightening her fuzzy pink cardigan.

"Oh, you're a psychic now are you!" Fred spat, trying to pull himself out from under Ron and Harry.

"When your headmaster hears how you've treated me you'll be-" began Umbridge.

But she was interrupted by George, who let out a very loud raspberry at her as he pulled himself free from the tangle. Umbridge scowled, whipping spit flacks off her cheek. Her eye twitched and her lips pursed tightly, making her appear about to either ribbit, or explode. Fred and George stood before Ron and Harry with smirks of hatred slashed across their faces in mirror images. Umbridge about-faced and stormed off. Her giant pink butt wagging back and forth hurriedly in her rage as the walk she usually thought was feminine and adorable betrayed her.

"We're screwed, what **were** you_ thinking_!" demanded Hermione, turning her rage upon the boys.

"Aw, lay off," droned Fred.

"We're going to be _punished_ for that!" Hermione reminded him. "Ron and I are Prefects, we can't be getting in trouble. This is awful, I wonder what she'll make us do."

"Just relax," George instructed everyone. "Punishment should only last as long as you're in the clutches of said punisher."

"Torturing yourself about it all day will just drag it on," agreed Fred.

"It's what they want you to do," stated George.

Ginny had set up all the chairs again and straightened out the table while Harry and Ron struggled to unlock the bin. It was futile, however, and alas they were forced to give up.

"Maybe you can ask Dumbledore to unlock it," Ron offered, assuming that was a good suggestion though the look that spread across Harry's face proved that it wasn't.

"Sure, then we can explain that we need it opened because we were listening in on most of the meetings and are trying to figure out what everything means," retorted Harry, looking irritated.

Hermione glared at them all. "I assume none of you _geniuses_ managed to get the date and page number of that article so we could send in money for a copy of it?"

"…What?" asked Ron, looking puzzled while everyone else groaned and realized the stupidity of their actions. Hermione took out her planner and showed them that she'd been writing down the date and page numbers on articles she thought they'd find useful.

"You can thank me later," she informed them, putting the planner into her bag. "Are you alright?" she asked Harry. "Harry? Harry!"

"W-wha?" stammered Harry, coming out of his thoughts. "Oh, yeah…"

"So tell us more about the girl," requested Fred, his fingers unwrapping a way-too-innocent-looking bag of chocolates that they assumed he was preparing to use during Umbridge's punishment. "The one that saved your arse and then high-tailed it out of there."

"Why is it that you feel the need to include that every time someone mentions her?" questioned Hermione, her tone low and annoyed. Fred simply grinned and returned his gaze to Harry as Ron snatched the bag away to dumb out the window as smoke began emitting from it.

"You know as much as I do," growled Harry, not amused by their constant reminder that he had had to have a girl fight his battle for him. "I just want to know how she knew he was going to kidnap us, and when. Though I thought something felt strange in that park, it might have been her…"

"Which means You-Know-Who is having you watched," concluded Fred, looking smug.

"You'd think his spies and Dumbledore's would have ran into each other every once and a while," hissed Harry, his anger showing.

"You'd think **you** would have noticed at least **one** of them," Hermione pointed out, defending Dumbledore out of respect for her knew badge.

Harry gave her a rather sour look, but Fred piped up first.

"Well, apparently they did," he grinned.

"Yeah," George nodded. "Remus was the one on duty."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Forget about it," she sighed. "Let's just send for the articles and try to forget about the girl… you will forget about her, won't you Harry?"

When she looked to Harry, she was met by a piercingly harsh glower from his startling green eyes. She took the hint and headed up to the owlery to send in the article requests. Fred and George chose to stay and prod Harry for more information as they felt that his interest was far too great for what little he said he knew about her.

"Bugger off, I told you everything!" Harry protested, wrenching free from their grip.

"Come on!" begged Fred. "Every year you guys do something fun and George and I have to hear about it later! We're finally involved this time so spill it!"

"Totter off!" Ron growled at them, shoving them away. "He'll tell us when he's ready."

"I don't KNOW ANYMORE!" Harry roared.

"Then why are you so interesting in her?" George asked, his gaze patiently amused.

Harry opened his mouth to yell, but the truth was that he didn't know why he was so interested in the girl. It wasn't really her so much as what Sirius and Remus had called her. That word. It was a word that the Dursley's seemed to hate and Harry was sure it wasn't simply because they hated anything mystical. When Harry had said it, they had sent him to his room and he could hear them panicking down stairs, but why? That girl. That killer. That young Death Eater… And they called her Angel.

"Angel…" Dumbledore spoke the word as if it were a spell that would transport him into the past. Truth was that it brought back a lot of memories he had never wanted to face again. The pronunciation of the word fell off his tongue as a code name, not a creature. ANGEL. How many years had it been since he'd last heard of that project?

"I thought we destroyed that base," Remus stated. It was true. The order's last mission had been to find how Voldemort was keeping in touch with Takai, and then find the lab and destroy it.

Belatrix had refused to tell anything, not even when they hinted that they knew where her daughter was. The only thing she'd say was 'You'll never find his daughter. Not until he rises to power again and calls her to him to destroy you.' They had found a meeting house, an arranged location where Voldemort met with Takai. Remus sent word to Takai and he came. Dumbledore had watched in silence from underneath Moody's invisibility cloak.

Takai wasn't the man he had pictured. He was tall with light brown hair that was delinquently swept back, sharp, charismatic features and the kind of eyes that looked regal when half-lidded, dangerous when fully open, and maniacal when matched with a sneer. He had sharp canines that glistened threateningly when he grinned his wide grin, as if preparing to bite, and large, shapely ears that made everyone in his company feel that he heard every sound they made.

Hagrid had been the one elected to talk to him as he looked able to handle whatever creature Takai brought with him, and was the only order member Takai wouldn't be able to recognize. Remus went, despite anyone's protest. They knew he had to see an end to Takai. They couldn't prove Takai had done anything, but they could at least ruin his funding. Beside him had stood Cota, who had stopped talking after he had been dragged away from the Potter house.

Dumbledore could still hear his screams as they dragged him from the burning home. He could still see Cota fighting, struggling to get into the house as if Lily and James were still alive and calling for him. He could still feel the heartbreaking nausea that had shivered through him as he tried to calm Cota.

"No!" Cota screamed desperately, fighting against the two grown men that held him as Dumbledore arrived. "Let go! I have to help them! I promised I'd never let anything hurt her!"

Dumbledore felt his heart shatter into a million pieces while he watched Cota fight as tears streamed down his soot covered face. There were scratches on his arms… and a tinny, ash covered toy raccoon clutched in his right hand.

"Cota, they're gone," Dumbledore begged him to understand, but his eyes were fixed on the house and his mind just wasn't willing to focus.

"No!" he roared, lunging forward against his captors who were twice his size. "No! I promised! No! Let me go! I have to find her! I have to get them out!"

"Cota!" Dumbledore yelled, seeing one of the men yell for an Auror. "Voldemort came tonight!" he had to yell over the roar of the Ministry fire sirens and cackle of the raging inferno, the sound of Ministry workers containing the muggles and preparing charms that would erase the night for them forever. "He killed them, Cota! Harry is the only one to survive!"

Cota fought harder, he wouldn't listen. The men pulled him towards a criminal transport, but Owiery and his Lord showed up and stopped them. Owiery and Derek were able to hold Cota back and get him away from the scene. Owiery begged his Lord to defend Cota's actions and he had. But that was all he could do for him. They locked Cota away in a mental institute after he stopped talking. It seemed poor Cota had broken. He sat in a dimly lit room, staring at the floor and never speaking. Nothing anyone did would help. Lisa found Triny and came to visit, but Cota didn't react as if he even remembered them. Healers came in and out of the room, but to no avail. The only reason they knew he was still alive was his heart was beating and his lungs took in air.

He had only moved when Remus relayed the plan to him, though the movement was slight and insignificant. Remus had been about to blow if off as nothing and leave when the hallow eyes had slid up and met his gaze. There was a sickly film covering them, making them appear like ghosts of what once was. Remus stopped, slightly startled, and heard three words broke through, crackling but firm.

"I'm coming too."

Remus had agreed without hesitation, it hadn't been a question after all. Dumbledore remembered how Remus had, for the first time, ignored the warnings of the other members and told them they could listen or stand by and let him do it without their help. Cota had stood beside him, a shell of the human being he had once been. He did not speak or even look at anyone, but Remus acted for him as if reading every breath, every blink, every shift and slight movement as a sentence. The plan moved ceaselessly.

They sent word that Voldemort had been sent into hiding and wanted to know where his allies were, in this his most desperate hour. Takai replied that he would never falter as long as he received payment. The meeting was set. Takai arrived an hour early, but that had been what Remus and Cota expected. They were ready. Yet something was off. Takai sat at the table and announced that he was surprised to hear from anyone so soon. He admitted quite easily that he knew of Voldemort's defeat of course.

"How could I not?" he asked. "I already met with…" he stopped as if unsure if e should give a name.

"You know the condition of our Master," spoke Remus neutrally, as if discussing sports. "He wants conformation that his allies aren't getting cold feet."

"My feet are warm if he still had gold," Takai promised, smiling as if he had told an amusing joke. "I assume though that he will be disbanding his group for a while and is really checking to make sure that I know he'll be empowering again." He nodded like he was the most brilliant man alive and was three steps ahead of them.

"Yer dead on," said Hagrid, giving Remus an annoyed look. Pretending like they'd been seen through. "Ye got any critters ta give while he recoups?" he asked slyly.

Takai looked set aback, though he quickly covered that up, but his smile was gone. He stared at them piercingly with his green and gold eyes and seemed to be trying to search them for signs of a trap. Cota was the only one able to meet his stare. His eyes stared back emptily and cold, yet hinted at fierce determination. Takai respected that look; the look of someone who had lost everything and was now living in the dark world of nightmares where nothing could faze them anymore.

He tried to create that look in his best creations as they were the ones who would fight even in the face of sure death; the ones who had turned away from the harsh, cold light, and embraced darkness. He loved that look. The look of a future assassin, fighting for a crime that would never be revenged but still had to be fought for. He sat back and straightened his coat with a pleased smile. He then began busying himself with pulling on his white opera gloves and spoke without looking at them.

"Tell your lord that plans shall proceed," he stated. "I have received the money and shall watch the girl and train her."

The girl. Those words had captured their attention like fireflies is a jar. A Death Eater had brought Takai money for him to train a girl. That could only be the daughter! Takai stood and Hagrid had to hold Cota back. Remus rose to his feet, but Takai misunderstood that and said,

"Now, now, my word is good," he studied at Remus with a patient stare. "Tell him to keep that snake of his as a token of my loyalty and let him know that his daughter is in good… well, capable, hands. The A.N.G.E.L project will go as planned, graciously accepting his yearly donations."

"Tell him from the grave," Cota snarled, launching forward in full attack. Takai was protected by one of his body guards sacrificing their life in order to save him.

Takai looked stunned as Remus yanked out his wand and blew the other body guard away. The giant elephant-like creatures, who were maroon in color, had burgandy fur around their ankles and down their back, long, powerful tusks, and razor sharp teeth, charged forward, waving their heads from side to side to deflect the spells off the only vulnerable part of their body, their diamond shaped, crimson eyes. Takai ran for one, but Dumbledore was upon him already. They had him in the ministry by sundown.

Takai had stood looking murderously sour as the council deliberated his case. They had commandeered his bank account pending an investigation, though there was only a few thousand dollars in it as the rest, no doubt, had been spent of his experiments. Takai denied all knowledge of the lab, but under truth serum he told them that the lab was underneath the destroyed lab, and still operational.

Takai escaped with the help of Voldemort's Death Eaters, and was never heard from again. Though the Ministry swept through the lab and destroyed everything. They found no trace of Voldemort's daughter anywhere. Noname was destroyed, butchered really, after killing two Aurors. The Ministry deemed everything hazardous and ordered all traces of the lab to be burned so the work couldn't be repeated. Well… Dumbledore made that call as he was afraid the Ministry might try to duplicate the work.

When it was over… they had thought it was really over. Cota severed all ties except a calling card he left with Remus to use only in case of an emergency. Remus had dropped out of sight; he lived in his cabin and, like Cota, spoke to no one. Dumbledore had though the bitter war was over and it was time to heal… but Sirius and Remus now spoke of an ANGEL.

"You're sure?" Dumbledore asked sternly, his tone designed to drive the point in that he was being one hundred percent serious and would not stand for being lied to. He did it not only to make the two men think about their claim, but also to tell himself to accept their answer.

There was a considerable silence, but not one of doubt, more like an emphasis to the answer. They thought it through and were just as sure of what they had seen then ever.

"Yes," said Remus, nodding. "The way she moved, her tone, then even the way she killed that man. They were too practiced to be anything else."

"She did not use a wand at all," Sirius pointed out. "She had a weapon ready. What kind of a person trades their wand for a tool that can only murder?"

"So…" Dumbledore took a breath and let their words. "Takai must have fooled us."

"But how?"

"Maybe his power is stronger than we though," Remus proposed. "He must have strong mental capabilities if he can resist the truth serum."

"Maybe he wanted us to destroy that lab," Albus whispered, knowing they would hear him. "It made us focus elsewhere and he got to test his monsters' abilities."

"I bet he even watched by way of the security cameras," Remus nodded, troubled.

"I don't care how he did it," Sirius grumbled. "What matters is that we find him."

"How would you like to do that, Sirius?" questioned Remus, looking skeptical.

"We need to capture the girl," Sirius replied excitedly.

"How," again Remus ruined the plan with the obvious.

Sirius shot him a look that told he was missing the point. "I got a feeling that she'll be finding us."

"What?" Remus peered over at Sirius as if he'd lost his mind.

"She was following Harry for a reason," Sirius droned, his tone telling them that he thought it was obvious. "So-"

"Bait!" Remus yelped. "You want to use your Godson as bait!"

"No one is going to use anyone as bait," clarified Dumbledore. "Lately I've heard reports of beats spotted across the land, all heading in the same direction. It's low key, and most hardly even think to mention it, but it might be worth looking into. I'll send Fawkeys out to do a sweep every night and I'll contact you if he finds anything."

Remus and Sirius nodded. Sirius realized after a few silent minutes that he was being stared at.

"Can't I at least talk to Harry?" he asked. "You could call him up here, or I'll go see him-"

"No, Sirius," argued Dumbledore. "It's the Floonetwork for you."

Sirius was about to argue, but Remus pushed him forward. The warning was clear, if he made a fuss every time they let him out it wouldn't be long before they never did. Sirius grumbled, but obeyed and Remus soon followed. Albus extinguished the flames as Umbridge pounded on his door.

"Ah, Dolores, what might I help you with?" he asked pleasantly.

"I've been assaulted," she replied dramatically. "Those twins need to be expelled!"

"They assaulted you?" Dumbledore asked, looking shocked. "Thank goodness you appear unharmed."

"Verbal assaulting!" Umbridge puffed. "Such language!"

"My, my. I'm shocked," gasped Dumbledore, escorting her to a chair so she could describe the traumatic verbal bitch-slapping.

"They need to be taught a lesson!" Umbridge ranted, allowing herself to be helped into the chair.

"Of course, I shall send word to their parents immediately," Dumbledore promised. "Might I ask what started the assault?"

Umbridge was silent, which was unusual for her. Eventually, she seemed to have been unable to think up a good lie as she lowered her tone to her English nanny turned third grader tone. "I don't think what started it is the point," she explained sweetly. "What is important is that they be reprimanded for their actions."

Dumbledore turned to his usual habit of not only listening intently to what someone was saying, but their tone, their movements, anything that might relay a deeper meaning to what they said. He knew Umbridge was keeping something from him, but all he needed to do was call Fred and George into his office and ask what they were being punished for. They were pranksters, but not liars. Dolores continued her rant that the students were not respecting her and that she felt Minerva was putting them up to it.

"Minevra?" Dumbledore asked in what Umbridge thought was pure shock. "I shall speak to her, but I've never heard of her using so much as a bad tone towards another staff member. She does tend to treat everyone equally."

The rant continued and eventually Dumbledore was able to calm Umbridge and send her off looking pleased. That crisis over, Dumbledore turned to Fawkey.

"Old friend, I fear the worst," he admitted, stroking the bird's feathery head. "Little Kira, God rest her soul, was powerful and an older, trained ANGEL is dangerous… In respect to those we lost because of that program, please, search far and bring me back news."

The Phoenix let out a soft song-like answer and disappeared in a flame. Albus crossed to the silver chest in the corner of the room. He opened it and saw a full picture of all the order members, behind it was pictures that had been sent to him over the years. An envelope fell and out spilled many pictures that Lilly had sent to him. Kira's first birthday party, her first time riding Candy, then he saw a picture that hurt him to look at more than any other.

She was laughing and dressed in her favorite pink jumper with her hair slightly curled. Cota had his arms wrapped around her and was smiling that smile of his that could make anyone happy. They were playing some sort of silly game and having fun. Yet the startling blue eyes in the picture had faded, and the breath taking purple ones were gone from this earth. Dumbledore had not seen Cota in over fourteen years. But he'd never forget seeing the playful boy fade away.

Then came the family picture Lily had taken. Kira was dressed in a lacy dress with sparkling pink shoes and her hair painstakingly designed. She looked cute, even though Dumbledore remembered how active she was and how the dress had driven her crazy as she wasn't supposed to get it dirty. James sat behind her looking as uncomfortable as she did and every now and then they would look at one another and burst out laughing. Lilly sat next to James, holding baby Harry, and every now and then she'd look to James and Kira and roll her eyes. Cota stood behind them with a hand on each chair, winking playfully at the camera.

It was hard to think that three out of that picture were dead, one had changed for the worst, and one was orphaned and did not even remember the other's in the photo. If he had known then what he knew know… Dumbledore stopped. If only had been words that plagued him every night after someone died. He'd never quite gotten accustom to one of his friends dying, and he never truly would. Yet, the murder of a little girl whose parents had already been taken and the driving of a person with so much potential to their breaking point had nearly done him in.

"Not again," he swore. "I will not let that happen ever again."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, George, Fred, and Ginny sat at the breakfast table waiting for the owls. It had been seven days and they were anxious to get a reply. Already Fred and George had promised Harry that if Hermione tried to lecture and keep the articles from him that they'd steal them from her. They sat one on each side of her, poised and ready. Dumbledore had already spoken to Fred and George, who admitted reluctantly that they were looking through old archives of when Voldemort had first emerged in order to get a broader perspective of what to expect. Albus had been suspicious that there was more to the story, but he couldn't blame them for wanting to know that was going on.

He had written Molly to send a not-too-embarrassing howler that just told Fred and George to behave for the ministry representative. She had and Fred and George had spent an entire lunch glowering at Albus, who returned their gazes with a warm smile until he realized that Harry was shooting him the same glare. He sighed inwardly and chose to ignore the brooding teenagers. In swooped the owls. Fred and George tensed up, licking their lips ominously.

The owl that delivered the archives was a sporty-looking thing with black and grew feathers and a flat, white face. He glided in triumphantly and did not flap his wings once as he navigated over to Hermione, who collected money from Harry to pay the owl with. The owl set down a manila envelope in front of her and received payment. He gave a saluting hoot and flew off importantly.

Hermione snatched up the envelope and dawned her lecture face. She opened her mouth, but Fred and George snapped into action. They grabbed the envelope and took off with Harry at their heels and Ron, trying to finish his breakfast and run at the same time. Hermione wasn't pleased. She leapt up and chased after them, her face red with fury. Harry found an amazing burst of speed and managed to grab hold of the envelope and change directions faultlessly. He raced up a set of stairs.

Fred and George had agreed to that. They'd get if for him but they'd let him read it alone first. The entire world seemed to know his life story and now he finally had found something they seemingly didn't know and he wanted to find out in private. He jumped around the corner and ran headlong into Severus Snape.

"Potter!" Severus snapped viciously, having fallen to the ground.

"Sorry," Harry replied quickly, trying, in his dizziness, to see where he'd dropped the envelope.

Snape found it first and snatched it up looking evil. Harry's hand shot out, but Snape ignored it and stood up. He turned to walk away when Harry yelled out,

"Those are mine!"

Snape sneered and turned around, staring down his nose at the fifteen-year-old. "Haven't you heard?" he gestured towards a notice that Umbridge had put up.

It stated that all newspaper articles containing conformation on Voldemort were banned. Harry's eyes skimmed it and paled. Severus's lips curled happily at the sight and turned to leave. Harry panicked, but all the rage left him. This was his one chance to find out something about his father's career and he couldn't explain the desperation in him.

"Professor Snape," he began, his words soft and pleading. "Please, those are important."

"Rules are rules," Snape chimed back, waving the envelope like a trophy.

Harry dropped to his knees, "Please," he begged.

Snape turned around and could not hide the shock from his face. Potter could see his chance slipping away and he could barely fight back tears as he met Snape's eye. Surprise left Severus and was replaced with an immense sense of self satisfaction unlike any he had ever dreamed of. It was like his heart was full of hot coco and marshmallows and the world was a giant goosefeather polyester pillow. He felt lighter than air as the words leapt from his tongue, denying Potter of something he wanted bad enough to relinquish his pride for.

"I don't think so," he sneered. "And when I say I, I mean me personally. Forget the rules, forget the ministry employee. It's all simply because I hate you and I have power over you. If you ever even dream of seeing these again you're going to be nice and do what I tell you and them maybe, just maybe, I'll decide to hand you back this envelop, understood?"

Harry's face tightened and his law clenched. His hands shook and the tears boiled with rage, but in the end he dropped his head in defeat and said.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" Snape purred maliciously. Milking the moment for every drop it was worth.

Harry forced out a breath and grudgingly replied, "Yes, _sir_."

Snape smiled and trotted off on the verge of skipping, leaving Harry to wallow in defeat. When he reached the Common Room, Fred and George had already read the notice and were growling at Minerva, who had been ordered to check and make sure no one had any. The found one that Hermione had hid, and tossed it into the fire.

"Look, I'm sorry but if we fight her on this there will be trouble and it's not worth it," she replied. "And if you don't move I'm throwing you in next, George."

"False promise," mumbled Ron and Ginny, who knew Hermione had made separate orders so more than one envelope would arrive and had stayed to collect those.

"I dare you," grumbled George.

Minerva rolled her eyes and looked to Harry. "Acio, Archives," she said, yet nothing happened. "Okay, at least one of you is clean."

George fell away from the fire place, wide eyed and gaping. Harry simply mouthed 'Snape,' and his friends nodded in understanding.

That night the six of them stayed away, pondering how to get some information. Ginny suggested they look up Angel, but that search had revealed nothing. Yet, Harry didn't care about that anymore, he wanted to know about his father. The memory was slipping away already. He knew that something called a rider had fought against Voldemort and his father had something to do with that… but everything else had been zapped out by Umbridge's spell, which had had him pondering his own name for half an hour.

"So… now what?" asked Ron.

Harry shrugged, he had no idea what to do. They only thing they could do was wait. He wanted to ask Remus and Sirius but they didn't seem to want to talk about that at all. He stared out the window and into the darkness. Then it came to him

"We have a Hogsmead trip coming up!" He announced happily. "We could have the owl deliver the articles to the Shrieking Shack!"

"I don't know…" worried Hermione.

"It's the only way," Harry whirled on her. "And I'll do it without you if I must."

Hermione bit her lip and saw that everyone was staring at her like a betrayer. Eventually she nodded and they erupted into cheers. The plan was set.


	3. Devil's Emblem

You never do what you know you oughta  
Something tells me  
you're a Devil's daughter  
Sorrow, sorrow  
Ahhhh, ah, ahhhh

I tried to find her  
'Cause I can't resist her  
(I tried to find her)  
I never knew just how much I missed her  
Sorrow  
Sorrow  
--

Dumbledore noted that Fawkeys still had not returned. He hadn't slept a wink since he'd sent the phoenix off on the hunt for the girl. His mind was too flooded with images of the past, which he tried to ladle off into the pensive in one of his drawers. Yet always he saw their faces, their shining eyes. Lily's beautiful green eyes he used to love, yet now they haunted him every time he looked at Harry. The same was true of James! Looking at their poor child made his chest throb like a beast was eating its way through from the inside.

Dumbledore was glad he did not have to face Harry much thus far, but at night he had another child to dwell on. It seemed baby Kira was haunting him. Every night she appeared before him, her dress ripped and her wavy blond hair was misplaced and caked together with blood. She was full color; the pink of her dress was faded, but visible, as was the blood in her hair and the shoes on her tiny little feet.

Yet her face had lost its rosy glow and had become pale. Her eyes now seemed hallow and drawn back into her skull. Always she looked sad. Tortured, lost, and dare he say it, betrayed. She would follow him if he tried to leave his bedroom and venture the halls. She never ran, but if he did, she'd be waiting around the next corner.

"Mr. Dumbledore," she cried, looking fearfully around. "Where's mommy, where's daddy! The house is a black skeleton! Where is everyone? I can't find my mommy! Daddy is missing, where are they? Where are they, Mr. Dumbledore, where?"

"There dead!" he wanted to scream. "Dead, gone, moved on! You can't join them because Takai owns your soul!" But every time he opened his mouth to say those harsh, cruel words… he couldn't.

"Where's Cota?" she would whimper, drawing closer to him as if searching for some form of comfort in her dismal world. "He never came home!"

"He is somewhere far away, not wanting to return and not speaking," Dumbledore always thought to say, but never could. "He is a shell of a human being, a shadow of what he once was."

"Where's Lion?" Kira begged. "His crib is burnt! Where is my baby brother!"

"Not a baby anymore," Dumbledore yearned to explain. "He has grown up and never once have we spoken to him about you, or Cota. He will not know about you because there is no reason for him to know. You're dead! I am trying to protect him! Leave me be, Kira!"

Yet all he ever managed to say was, "Kira, dear, I don't know where they've gone, but they'll come for you, I'm sure."

Yet that never made her go. She'd come the next night and ask the same questions. He had enough to worry about without ghosts, but she was barely three years old, how was she to know any better… poor child died on the eve of her birthday. She must have gone to bed that night, dreaming of presents and cake… …. … then awoke, not a year older, but as a ghost. He longed for nothing more than the chance to see her again and tell her he had not forgotten her and that he was sorry. He wanted to comfort her and keep her safe… Dumbledore gazed out his window. The moon was in a clearing of clouds, setting off a luminescent glow.

It was then that, in a blaze, Fawkeys appeared on his perch, carrying a leaf. Dumbledore took the leaf as if it were a porcelain teacup. He focused on it, training his eyes on every detail, honing his senses to every element; the smell, the color, the size, the veins, the texture, everything. The leaf had red around the edges and spikes as well. Its scent was heavy and its veins were black. He had never seen this before and as the moon light hit it, it began to emit a soft glow.

Without hesitation, Dumbledore left his office and headed down to talk with Professor Sprout. It was late, but he was sure she'd still be awake. He hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. Professor Sprout might be awake, but surely being asked about such a rare plant in the middle of the night would draw her interest. Albus repositioned the half-moon spectacles perched upon his tree-limb nose.

He would have to wait till morning, but willing his restless body to do so would be tough. He removed his glasses all together and began cleaning them, a distraction while he willed his mind and body to obey. He was so focused that he didn't hear the drowsy footsteps approach him until he heard a loud gasp and-

"It that Devil's Emblem!"

Dumbledore turned, putting his glasses back on as he did. The fuzzy outline of a stocky, slight boy became the distinguished figure of Neville Longbottom. There was no hiding the leaf so instead Albus smiled gently and spoke in a curious, kind voice.

"To be honest I don't know," he admitted pleasantly. "Fawkeys likes to find this sort of thing; it's a game you see. He wants me to find out where he's been."

Neville held out his hands, onto which Dumbledore laid the leaf in as casual a display as he could. Neville peered at it closely, a jeweler examining a rare gem. When he looked up again his face was alive with excitement.

"D-devil's Emblem only grows in one place," he stated enthusiastically. "Saru Forest. It's hard enough to get there, but recently no one is willing to go because there has been a few reports of monsters within that forests, beasts unlike any ever seen before."

"The Magical Creatures Department has heard nothing of this," Albus informed him lightly, though he was displaying signs of disheartenment. Surely this was a Quibbler story that Neville had read.

"Well they wouldn't, would they," Neville shook his head, obviously too absorbed in the new treasure to think of who he was talking to. "The herbologists decided the monsters were guarding the plant and concluded that they do not want the creaturists destroying it in their attempts to catch the monsters. It said so in Find Your Roots Magazine."

"Ah," Dumbledore gave an amused smile. "Thank you, Neville."

Neville's face flushed with color. "I-it," he stuttered. "It was no trouble."

"Five points to Gryffindor, for your wonderful display of knowledge," Albus beamed. "And you may keep that leaf. Oh, if anyone asks. Let's not tell them you got the points because my pet outsmarted me," he added slyly.

Neville gave a nervous laugh and shook his head. "I wouldn't tell anyone that."

Albus gave a warm eye-twinkling smile, and looked at his watch. "I'm afraid it's getting quite late, you better hear off."

Neville nodded quickly and trotted off to the Gryffindor common room. He was so relieved that the headmaster hadn't asked why he was out of the dorm, that he didn't look back or ask the question of why the headmaster was out so late, carrying a leaf if it was for a simple game. He muttered the password, slipped back into the common room and headed off to bed, placing the leaf securely in the pages of his Herbology book.

The next morning the students in the fifth-year Gryffindor boys' dorm room were awoken so the rather pungent, spice smell emitting from Neville's trunk. They awoke, rather grumpily, and tried to find the origin of the scent. It was not a bad sent, rather a spice-like rose scent. Harry at first assumed someone had put the two scented air fresheners into their trunks. But he knew very few guys that would do such a thing.

Neville leapt up from his bad, nearly falling flat on his face, and grabbed a book, which he quickly moved to the open window and began fanning it out, stammering out apologies.

"What is that, Neville?" choked Seamus, fanning the air with his hat.

"Sorry," Neville cringed, crushed by his stupidity. "I forgot how strong an intact Devil's Emblem smelt when it dried."

Harry and Ron dressed and retreated out the door. It was very early and no one else was awake yet, so they positioned themselves in the more comfortable chairs and tried to nod off. Seamus came down a few minutes later with Dean in tow. They saw Harry and Ron and decided they had a good idea. Poor Neville was left to his own devices as he assumed they hated him. He rolled his hands against the leaf, putting all his weight behind the movement and flattening the leaf. The oil rose from it and dripped down into the vial Neville laid at the base of the plant's stem.

He corked it and was happy to see that the act had lessened the scent. With a feeling of slight accomplishment, Neville stowed the leaf back in his book, stuffed the book in his book bag, yanked the cord tightly shut, and proceeded to air out the room with his hat. Hermione joined him half an hour later, having been told what had happened by Harry. She cast a wind spell and the boys had to run into the dorm to secure everything that wasn't nailed down.

The morning adventure over, they then headed to breakfast. Which was delightfully uneventful until the toad began glaring at them. Fred took first notice and was aiming a spoon full of oatmeal at her left nostril when Hermione caught him; though they all noticed that McGonagall had not risen to stop him, though she was watching. None of them could read minds, but they heard a silent 'damn,' in their heads when Hermione yanked the spoon away from Fred and the look on the transfiguration teacher's face proved she'd been thinking it.

Harry noticed that Albus seemed oddly distracted, and Snape and Minerva looked restless. Harry couldn't eat. He knew something was happening, and doubted anyone was going to tell him what it was. Fred and George were huddled with Lee Jordan, undoubtedly thinking up some nasty way to pay Umbridge back for her newspaper embargo. Ron and Hermione were arguing though they didn't seem to realize it. Ron was trying to convince Harry what a good idea it was to so to the Shrieking Shack, while, on Harry's other side, Hermione tried to talk him out of it.

Harry, having learned to ignore them, instead stared at his breakfast and waited for his friends to lean forward and argue directly against each other so he could leave without them noticing. I didn't take very long and he faded away from the table without anyone stopping him. He wanted to be alone anyway. Harry meandered through the halls until he heard something that caught his interest.

"Everybody has broken out," stated a boy's voice.

"Yeah, the ministry is going berserk," chortled another, this time recognizable voice. Draco Malfoy.

"I hear they're calling all their employees back for an emergency meeting, and to cover it up from the media."

Malfoy released a sharp laugh. "Attempt," he clarified. "They can only attempt to cover it up."

The group burst into odd laughter and Harry took the opportunity to leave. He reported his findings to Hermione and Ron as they made their way to their first class.

"So, it's like You-Know-Who said last year," gaped Hermione, her brow furrowed in distress. "All the Death Eaters have been freed."

"What do we do?" Ron asked. "Tell McGonagall?"

"No, I'd think they already know about it," said Harry. "But now we know it too, just in case…"

"Incase of what?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Incase of the usual," Ron sighed. "Incase we end up solving the mystery as usual."

The next morning, Harry made his way easily towards the Quidditch field, hoping some flying time would improve his foul mood. He could just make out Alicia in the distance, waving for him to hurry. He was in the air in a matter of minutes, chasing the snitch around without really trying to catch it as they waited for the rest of the team to arrive.

Minerva had secured them the field and Snape seemed too giddy to care at the moment, though seeing him happy was more frightening and nauseating then seeing him leaning over you with a curvy knife. Harry followed the snitch almost lazily until Alicia made him catch it and hand it over. She then cast a spell on it that she got from her Quidditch trainer's guidebook and held it by the wings, sneering tauntingly at Harry. He smiled, daring her to show what she'd done and she did so with pleasure. The minute she released the snitch it zoomed off faster than Harry had ever seen it go.

He gave chase, thankful of the calm crispness of the early morning. There were no other students on the grounds to distract him. He followed the out of control snitch as it zoomed higher and higher into the clouds. The snitch made a sharp left and Harry was right behind it, unable to see the stadium anymore. He whipped around to the left just before the snitch did; glad his instincts had been right, Harry reached out his hand, stretching his fingers as far as he could. It was below him in an instant and he dove down after it.

The clouds cleared quite suddenly and Harry saw that he was above the forbidden forest. The snitch veered right, heading back towards the school and Harry's eyes moved to follow, but something caught his eye first; a flicker of light that caught his attention in an instant. Staring up at him, all that was visible under the hood was a gasping mouth, but Harry recognized the silver weapon in the figures hand.

"Hey!" he called down, zooming closer as she leapt from the tree. "Stop!"

It was quite a drop to the forest floor, but the girl managed it and took off. Harry shot after her, bobbing and weaving through the trees as he followed the flicker of the girl's cloak. He turned a corner and grabbed the cloak, yanking back as hard as he could. He managed to pull her off her feet and to the ground, but within a moment he was holding nothing but a fist full of fabric. She had lashed out with her rapier, barely missing his hand. Harry jerked back and shot upward as she slashed at him. Harry was rewarded for his maneuver by chilling pain shooting down his leg as he powered towards the sky.

Grabbing his wand, Harry swooped back down. His lack of knowledge about the ANGEL program making him immune to how very bad of an idea facing one was. He stayed on his broom, his every muscle prepared for emergency maneuvers, yet she was nowhere to be found. He wanted to continue looking, but Alicia appeared above him, looking worried.

"What happened!" she demanded, rushing over to him.

Harry sighed and turned to head back towards the school. Alicia followed, but spotted his wounded leg like a shark smelling the tinniest drop of blood.

"Potter!" she gaped. "Where you attacked? By who? Where did they go? What did they want? Did you see their face-"

"No," Harry interrupted her angrily. "I just… I hit a tree, okay? It's embarrassing."

Alicia didn't even begin to buy that excuse and her face showed it. "Yeah sure," she rolled her eyes. "I've seen you fly, Potter, you'd have to be blind to hit a tree."

Harry glared forward. "Well I did," he growled.

"Either way," Alicia's tone made it clear that getting mad at her wasn't going to end in anything but an ass kicking. "Fine, you didn't get attacked. Then you've lost your ability to fly and thus I'm taking you to go and see Madam Pomfrey."

"I haven't lost the ability to fly!" Harry snapped. "I just got distracted!"

"By some trauma you'll need to speak to a councilor about," Alicia countered. "I knew what happened last year would affect you this year. Who can blame you, but I need my players in top form."

"I do not need a psychiatrist!" Harry bellowed angrily.

"Then what happened!" Alicia screamed back.

"Nothing!" Harry argued. "The snitch was going faster than usual and I wasn't concentrating and I hit a tree!"

Alicia obviously wasn't buying his excuse, but they were nearing the pitch and she didn't want the Slytherin who had shown up to hear her arguing with her seeker about his tree problem. Instead she led the way back into the pitch and excused Harry to go have his leg patched up. Harry had never been glad to see a Slytherin in his entire life, but he was happy that the conversation was over, though he doubted it would stay over. He walked the hallways with his gait a bit awkward as the cold sting traveled up and down his leg.

It made the simple trip to the infirmary a time consuming venture, yet to be honest it didn't hurt too terribly. Ron and Hermione caught sight of him though, and Harry had to shoot them each warning glares and wave his hands in the classic 'don't,' signal as Minerva was close buy and sure to notice if they made a fuss. With Ron's help, Harry managed to hobble his way through the halls and into the infirmary without being stopped or questioned by anyone other than Hermione.

"Okay, so what happened," Ron whispered as soon as Madam Pomfrey left.

Harry hesitated, but Hermione was quick to threaten. "You can tell us," she explained. "Or we can get a professor."

Harry glared at her and she returned the scowl, stating quite clearly, "Glower at me all you want, but I'll go straight to the headmaster."

"Fine," snarled Harry. He glanced around; making sure no one else was within hearing distance and leaned forward, causing Ron and Hermione to do the same. "I saw that girl in the forest."

"What girl?" asked Ron.

"What?" Demanded Hermione. "A Death Eater attacked you and you were not going to tell Professor Dumbledore!"

"Like he would care," Harry grumbled, receiving a sharp punch in the arm from Hermione.

"Stop being conceded!" she snapped. "Of course he'll care."

"What girl?" Ron asked again.

"Well then at least tell Si-"

"Shh!" Harry snapped at her, even though there was no one around to over hear.

Hermione knew she was being told to shut up and her lips pursed tightly in frustration. "Fine, I'll tell him," she stated crisply. "And don't give me that look. You were attacked and somebody needs to hear about it."

Before Harry could open his mouth to argue, Hermione swept out of the room and was gone from sight. He glared after her and then fell backwards onto the bed, trying to think up a good excuse for following her. How he came to be face to face with her was easy enough, she'd been watching the school from one of the higher branches of a tree and he had gotten lost in a cloud. From there he had problems.

"What girl?" Ron asked after quite a long moment of silence.

Harry looked over at him, incredulous. "How many do you know that are vicious?" he asked.

Ron smirked, his head turning in the direction Hermione had disappeared in. "Lots."

Harry suppressed a laugh as Madam Pomfrey came back in and spread a cream across the cut. Within a few seconds the pain was completely gone and the cut was healing.

"There, that wasn't as nasty a wound as I thought," she smiled grimly. Letting it be known that she thought he should be more careful. "And so clean for a tree," she added thickly.

Harry chose not to answer, though she paid him back for his silence by splashing some peroxide on the cut. Harry let out a hiss of pain and shot her a look, which she ignored completely. By the time the torment was over, Minerva strode in with Hermione at her heels. Harry sighed inwardly as Madam Pomfrey retreated to fetch a wrap. He had not come up with a good cover story yet.

"Mr. Potter," Minerva began curtly. "What's this I hear about someone attacking you?"

"Just what it sounds like," Harry grumbled. "I was chasing the snitch and traveled out of the pitch by accident," he explained, clarifying the word accident. "When I broke through the cloud I… er… kind of ran into someone in a tree."

"Someone was in a tree?"

"Yeah, she was up on one of the branches watching the pitch," Harry stated. "With a sword," he added, pointing at his leg. Harry turned to trying to explain what happened next, but it turned out he didn't need to as Minerva asked,

"What did she look like?"

"Er… She was wearing a hood, but I'm sure she…." He trailed off. He couldn't exactly talk about the first attack in front of Madam Pomfrey, who was returning.

Minerva nodded to show she understood, though she didn't stay to discuss matters, instead she said, "I'll look into it. For the time being it might not be a good idea to mention it to anyone. We don't want to spread a panic," and then turned and left.

The three teenagers stared after her, knowing she was off to initiate an order meeting they would not be allowed to attend even though they knew the most about the incident. Harry was cleared to leave and did so with a heavy heart. He was no closer to finding out what was going on than he had been, though his curiosity had grown stronger. There was something odd about that girl.

When he had seen her, even though he knew she could kill him, he had not been afraid. For a moment he had actually been impressed with her. She was amazingly fast… of course then she stabbed him and he began to hate her very quickly. However, something was wrong, no- something was familiar. Harry retreated to the dorm, not feeling much like hearing Alicia chew him out about the incident. Ron and Hermione stopped at the message board to see the latest decree that the giant toad had issued.

Harry sat in one of the chairs on the rim of the room and picked up where he had left off on his Astronomy report. That was when two things happened. The first was when Neville fell into the common room, his clothes smelling strongly of that leaf he had been carrying around earlier. Yet, before Harry even looked up, an image flashed before his eyes. A memory brought up by the scent. He saw platinum strands of hair spilling out from underneath a hood and flowing across a younger looking mouth, open in shock.

That girl had smelt like that leaf. Harry looked up and motioned Neville over. The awkward boy shuffled over to the table and sat heavily into a chair.

"Hi, Harry," he greeted, letting his books drop onto the table.

"Neville," Harry pondered, trying to seem casual. "Who gave you that leaf you had this morning?"

Neville sat up straighter and smiled happily. "Professor Dumbledore gave it to me for identifying it correctly," he answered proudly.

"Uh huh," Harry's mind was off and running. The girl smelt like the leaf that Neville had gotten from Dumbledore, who gave him the leaf for identifying it and knowing Neville he had emptied an encyclopedia about the plant including its location.

"He said Fawkeys brou-" Neville stopped and looked sharply away, but Harry had all the information he needed.

Neville gathered his books rather quickly and hurried out of sight just in time for the second thing to happen. Hermione rushed over with Ron a step behind her; they were both carrying heavy loads of emotion.

"Harry," Hermione began. "You said that all the ministry employees were being called in for a probably lengthy assignment, right?"

"Yeah," Harry drawled, bored as he was waiting to tell them that Dumbledore knew where the girl was and might have been planning to find her though he did not know when.

"So Umbridge is closing the school while she is gone!" Ron explained excitedly.

"She feels Dumbledore will turn this place against her if she is not here I'll bet," Hermione concluded. "This is awful; it could be closed for weeks!"

"Could I stay with Sirius?" Harry wondered out loud.

"I'll bet," grinned Ron. "Or with me. This rocks!"

Harry sat back in his chair and linked his fingers. "…No, I think the best thing for us to do is to find a way to stay here."

"Here?" Ron questioned.

"Wonderful idea!" Hermione chirped. "We can get extra studying in or maybe have the papers sent here while the embargo is off so we don't have to sneak into the shrieking shack! Oh thank Merlin!"

Harry nodded, though he knew that he would have to tell Ron the real reason later. The order knew where the girl was and most likely would want to detain her and get information… and what better a time or place than the closed school, with its functioning dungeon?

--

The mission was set. Only three members of the Order would be attending as any more and they would risk detection, but any less and the ANGEL might escape. It had not been difficult to decide who would go as only Sirius, Remus, and Mad-eye had volunteered. Moody was a respected fighter, Remus was a creature expert and had dealings with the ANGEL project, and Albus would lead the mission. Sirius wasn't happy, but had no choice in the matter as his job had been changed to watching Harry in case something went wrong.

The girl was a danger, they all knew it. She had come to the school and attacked Harry. They HAD to know her connection to Voldemort and her side in the battle. Albus Dumbledore sat in a tree that smelt heavy of rose spice. A cloaking spell was cast heavy upon him as well as Remus and Mad-eye. They had been in their hiding spots around a clearing for a good hour, not daring to talk. Then _they_ came; the terrible beats and creatures that could only have come from the twisted mind of Takai; their very existence was a perversion upon the land.

The first to break through the trees was a white, gorilla-like creature with a mangled, almost skeletal head and long fangs. It swung to the center of the clearing and pounded its chest, its hands revealing sloth-like claws. Behind it came a tall gangly creature with acid burns across half its body, and the other half was a dark red color, it walked dignifiedly, yet its raptor styled legs were tense and quick.

Its long arms were held at its side, ready to strike. Three more creatures arrived, some looking brutally mangled and others deadly and fierce. Most though, held wounds and seemed tired. They grunted and growled at each other, snapping or slashing out. Dumbledore stayed still, the animals would not sense them as they were down-wind and had been there for a long time. As the creatures grew steadily more reckless and uneasy, however, he began to worry. If the wind should shift they would undoubtedly have to fight these monsters. Yet, after what seemed and eternity another call pierced the air and the monsters replied in unison, clearing away from the center of the clearing.

Dumbledore had not seen her approach, but within seconds the girl dropped down amongst the creatures. They drew near her, coming terrifyingly close and yet she did not budge nor bat an eye. She merely looked to each one in turn and eventually spoke.

"Welcome," she started, her voice evocatively smooth. "Your journey has been hard, but your efforts will not go unnoticed by his eyes."

The creatures grunted and barked in reply and the girl nodded. She held her hands up to her mouth and let out a strangely musical howl. A massive white monster of a wolf trotted into view, its purple eyes matching the girl's as it peered around. Dumbledore's jaw tightened. So Takai had copied Kira's eyes had he? Or perhaps he had taken their design from Voldemort's daughter… possibly the girl before them.

"Rial, lead them home," the girl instructed. The wolf nodded and trotted off, the monsters followed instantly, but the girl stayed to await any stragglers. Remus leaned in for a closer look and snapped a branch. The noise echoed though the clearing. The girl heard the noise, jumping into full alert and Dumbledore knew their hiding game was up. Mad-eye leapt from his spot, his wand twirling in an attack. The girl brought up her rapier to meet his blow as Remus jumped down.

He brandished his wand like a foil and battled the girl as Mad-eye stood up. The girl battled for only a moment, then threw down a bomb which exploded into a cloud of smoke. From his higher vantage point, Dumbledore saw her run. She leapt to the side and vaulted a fallen tree, looking over her shoulder only briefly. Dumbledore dropped in front of her and held his wand at her throat, forcing her to stop.

"Ah, the coward emerges!" the girl spat. The ninja-style mask over her face blocking most of her features, but her eyes were still visible. They were angry and bloodshot from the powder, but exactly as Harry had described them.

"Surrender child," Dumbledore advised softly, his arm relaxed. "You will not be harmed."

The girl raised an eyebrow and the mask twitched as if sneering. "Then what will surrender bring me? Death?"

"Death is not what I came to offer you," Dumbledore stated, hearing Remus and Mad-eye begin fighting their way through the shrubbery. He smiled as if to comfort the girl.

"Then what is your offer?" The girl asked, though her tone had dropped into curios and almost longing.

"I need to ask you some questions," Dumbledore explained easily, not lowering his wand.

The girl crossed her arms. "Here?" She asked doubtingly. "I don't think this is the place for a conversation, Master coward."

"I'll assume you are speaking to me," Dumbledore informed her pleasantly, his eyes twinkling. "You need not be afraid. I just want to talk back at my school."

"I'm not afraid, but you are a coward for you do not **drop** your wand," the girl growled, her eyes meeting his fearfully.

"You have yet to surrender," Dumbledore reminded her with a smile and twinkling eyes. He waited a few seconds then lowered his wand as if in a sign of agreement. "Better?"

The girl stared back at him and her eyes grew cold. She snapped to the side and Dumbledore brought up his wand and fired, missing by just millimeters. At the cost of dodging, the girl's cloak became caught in a tree and she had to rip free, every second making her more desperate. She was caught tightly and stretching her hand towards a pocket of her cloak. Dumbledore raised his wand as Mad-eye and Remus ran up, but Albus was interrupted by the return of the wolf.

The creature leapt into the fray and charged at Dumbledore. It weaved between bushes, as agile as a fox. Remus and Mad-eye fired, hitting the metal clasp of the collar and breaking it off, but unable to hit the animal. The wolf veered off at the last moment and the girl pulled herself onto it and was gone.

"Damn!" Moody cursed. "Lost her!"

"Maybe not," Albus whispered, staring at collar. He picked it up from the ground and smiled. Upon it was a patch depicting a school logo.

"I think next time we need a trap," Remus observed. "There is no other way to get her without hurting her. She is too quick and every stunning spell I used phased right off."

"Well the research notes from the lab said they would, didn't it," Mood grunted. "Constant vigilance!" he marveled. "She was ready."

Dumbledore studied the crest and eyed Moody. "I don't think she was ready to leave a mark behind."

"Ya notice the mask," Moody argued.

"Minor complication," Remus shrugged. "The ANGELs do not exactly blend in."

---

By the next morning the order had tracked down the school by way of connections at the Ministry. It was a school Dumbledore had heard of fairly recently. A school for those deemed too dangerous for other schools. Werewolves, Fire starters, Wraiths, Gifts… those were the kinds of children taught at this school. It was built by private funding on the cheapest piece of land available; land on constant attack from creatures like Kelpie, mountain trolls, and red caps. It was called the Lunar Eclipse School of Magical Affairs.

Albus mounted the steps to the school entrance, his eyes forward yet watchful. The grounds seemed deserted and he could see many bell towers for different alarms. It was a grey place surrounded by an iron gate and a thick forest, yet the crest was on the door, and it matched the collar. He had wrote the headmaster a letter saying he wished to speak to a member of the staff, or possibly a student who had came to his school recently, but the reply came from the deputy headmaster, who had explained that the headmaster was out of town

As Dumbledore entered the school he found the interior to be rather inviting, though empty save for one man in a wide-brimmed hat and brown cloak. The entrance hall was a rather large room with a pristine tile floor and decorative circle staircase. The walls were blue and faded to black near the ceiling, which held a realistic mural of a Lunar Eclipse. Light pored from the moon and lights at the base of the walls lit up the room, creating a mystical appearance that Dumbledore could not help but admire. Then there was a banner of silver with dark blue print displaying the school slogan.

Turn not a bind eye to race, culture, gender, religion, preference… instead admire it for being different. Do not judge without walking in the shoes of those who oppose you, and always be brave enough to be yourself. Hold true what you know and do what your heart tells you is right.

The school mascots were the Snow Leopard, the Winged Wolf, the Phoenix, and the Dragon. The names were Cixla, Raphasy, Riva, and Venon. Though from what Dumbledore knew there weren't actually enough students for all four houses and one was reserved for school guardians. Older members and graduated students who fought off the monsters who attacked the school, and kept everyone in line. The man by the stairwell looked up as Albus entered, and then rushed over.

"Ah, there you are," he greeted warmly, his eyes covered by his hat. "Please, follow me."

Dumbledore followed, ignoring how odd it was that a meeting would begin with being rushed into another room. Still, it was an odd school and guaranteed to have odd customs. He followed the man to a large office, auburn on color with maroon carpeting and bras finishing. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace and a brilliant golden chandelier.

"Have a seat," the man invited with a gesture of his hand as he removed his hat to reveal long brown hair pulled back into a pony tail and youthful eyes. "My name is Irving, I invited you here. Sorry about the rush but classes are ending soon and things tend to get hectic."

"Quite alright," Albus nodded, taking a seat upon the couch. Instantly he seemed perfectly at ease.

A pretty woman with shorter black hair entered the room and set down a tray of tea and cakes. She smiled warmly, a smile that never faded. Albus smiled back and her eyes crinkled and she lifted her shoulders as if erupting with pleasure.

"Thank you, Dima," Irving nodded to her, seeming nervous though Albus pretended not to notice. "Tea, professor?"

"Thank you," Albus nodded again as if they were about to discuss pleasant things like vacations or birthdays. "Are you quite alright? You seem nervous."

"Shouldn't I be?" Irving asked while Dima poured them tea as if her entire life had been leading up to doing so. "Your letter made it sound like one of the students here had gone to your school. Imagine what the ministry would think."

"I try not to," Albus smiled wryly.

"Given I still find it hard to believe one of our students left and traveled so far without my knowledge," Irving added with a side-glance to Dima.

"Yes, it does seem strange," Dumbledore agreed, amused. "She must have extraordinary talent."

"Your description does not describe anyone I know of though," Irving continued, frowning and acting as though Dumbledore had not spoken. "Purple eyes? All day I've been looking and the closest I came to was a girl wearing contacts, making her eyes a very deep purple, and a male with blood-shot blue eyes. I really cannot do much without more information."

Albus stared at him, there was something missing. He smiled warmly, noticing how tense Irving was. "Well, I'd love to agree, but one of my students was attacked and I simply cannot let this go. I do hope you'll aid in finding this individual who must be pretending to be one of your students. Surely the ministry would not think twice to a girl such as her attending your school."

"None of our students are dangerous, Mr. Dumbledore," Irving clarified strictly, taking the tea as Dima handed it to him. "Just misunderstood."

"Oh yes, yes of course," Albus knew he wasn't going to get anywhere. The school was always on edge, having to constantly defend its right to exist. There was no way they would admit it if they had connections to Death Eaters. Dumbledore made fast effort to turn the conversation down to less hostile grounds and finish his tea. It did not matter if the school did not cooperate as there was always another way. Never was there only one path to choose, one simply had to know where to look. He bid farewell to Irving, trying purposely to leave during the chaos of the ending classes.

Irving escorted him to the door, but seemed to be growing nervous. Albus smiled calmly and set his pace to one of ease and grace. Though Irving was rigid and his eyes followed a particular student who was descending the stairs. Albus left the school, but turned back to look at Irving, who was talking to the student. His back was curved and his hands were slapping against each other angrily. The student's face was blocked by a cloak so Dumbledore could not see who it was. Instead of trying to see, he continued down the path towards the main gate and then turned back.

The student left the main doors, heading out like a few other students to enjoy the sunshine. Yet this student seemed different and sensed eyes upon her. The student spun around and Albus smiled. So, they had an ANGEL on their roster. The girl had a pretty face to match her alarmingly beautiful eyes, though her mouth was opened in surprise. Albus matched the girl's gaze and opened his mouth in a mocking copy of her own. He smiled at her and she started towards him threateningly, but was stopped by an energetic boy who bounded in front of her and began a conversation. The girl looked around him, but by then, Albus was gone.


	4. Hidden Secret

Why don't you show yourself?  
You always hide your face  
You never tell the truth

Why are you playing so cool?  
No one ever can reach you  
Everyone wants to know

Hidden truth  
Hidden truth

Why do you believe in lies?  
Playing the hero, you never let

Go. False reactions, a perfect show

Why don't you free yourself?  
Shut the door-let nobody in  
Close your book-let no one read

(**Deathrow)**

--

"So I watched her best I could," Tonks explained, pacing the room and thankfully not knocking anything over. "She's a paranoid one, I'll tell you that. She's got this… this smile, like she knows what you're up to. I barely saw her all day, but she went out that night. Just waltzed out the door and nobody batted an eye. It was as if they were under a spell or something!"

"So she can leave the grounds," Remus observed, stroking his chin. "She has to be strong if she'll go out with the werewolves. There was a full moon last night."

"Right! She was well armed," Tonks clarified. "I had to change my clothes and appearance all day just to get close enough to see. That chick's armed to the teeth!"

"Constant vigilance," grunted Moody, his arms crossed and his magical eye spinning around wildly.

"You'd like her," Tonks nodded to Mad-eye. "No matter what, every time I saw her she looked tense. But easy to track. Holding true to villain lore, she had on quite an outfit. It was black and frilly with bows and up-to the-elbow black gloves with another ribbon serving as a bracelet. Her hair was all done like she was going to a ball… course none of the kids dressed exactly the same. I swear it was a rainbow of color, all except her."

"Course, Voldemort can't have his daughter dressed commonly," Moody grunted spitefully.

"Are you returning to that?" Remus asked him while Sirius rolled his eyes. "We never found a trace of a daughter after his downfall."

"Yer righ' and after we foun' so much ah Peter," Moody retorted stiffly.

"If it is his daughter, then someone must be taking care of her," Sirius uncharacteristically interrupted the argument.

"Not a death eater," Snape droned thickly, lounging greasily back in his chair. "I don't know much about a daughter, except a girl there every once and a while that he said, in passing, was his."

"Well that'd be proof, don't ya think?" Sirius taunted vengefully from across the table. "Little girl walking around who says she is the boss's kid…. That'd strike me as his daughter."

"She did not talk," Severus growled, the tension so thick it was almost visible.

"So we have no idea who would be caring for her, and a long list of new possibilities," Remus sighed, placing his hands over his eyes in exhaustion.

"I think I may know who it is," Dumbledore announced, waking Kingsley up. "Not a Death Eater, but the name sounds familiar."

"Who is it?" Molly asked, though she felt lost.

"Irving," Dumbledore replied slowly.

"Irving!" Sirius and Remus demanded.

"He worked at Takai's base," Remus explained.

"Yeah, he took care of-" Sirius stopped dead. Not daring to go on.

"The ANGELs," Remus filled in. "The important ones, anyway."

"So how do we talk to her?" Molly questioned, wringing her hands together, her eyes shooting around the room like pinballs searching for any new creation the twins might have made.

"That's the hard part," Tonks sighed, dropping into an empty chair. "The school is being told to close, just like Hogwarts. The headmaster is off trying to assure the Ministry that he has no connections with the Death Eaters… seems they want the school closed even though they aren't willing to admit that Voldemort has come back."

"So she'll be leaving the school," Arthur confirmed, scratching his balding head. "We won't be able to find her."

"Unless we make her come here…" Remus proposed tentatively.

--

"What are they saying now?" Ron asked in little above a whisper.

"It's something about kidnapping," George grinned manically. "I think they're going to kidnap someone!"

Harry nodded and took the device out of his ear as Ginny ran up, looking out of breath. "He's coming," she announced tiredly. Hermione came behind her looking worse for the wear and soon collapsed.

The great knight, Sir Rusty- the baby sitter- came clanking up ranting of their victory and lecturing the rest of the lazy lot until he fell over, exhausted. The teenagers grinned prodded the sleeping figure, wondering if they could go back to snooping or not. Harry decided to chance it, though it seemed the meeting was over by the time the device made it all the way down to the floor where the meeting was being held. Disappointed, Harry removed the trick and handed it to Fred.

"So, they're kidnapping the girl," Fred recounted from his place in the corner. "Ah the villain of the year," he grinned.

"So, your girlfriend will be here," George taunted Harry, elbowing him in the ribs. "I'd get some chain mail if I were you."

"Shut. Up," Harry replied through clenched teeth as he pushed George away.

Fred, who was always in for a good ribbing, opened his mouth to add to the list, but foot steps echoed down the hallway. Someone was coming. They all leapt into extremely unconvincing looks of casualness, Ginny falling out of hers within seconds, and looked around the room as Sirius turned the corner. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"You all have GOT to be able to do better than that," he stated disappointedly. "All that's left is nonchalant whistling and you've got yourself the guiltiest poses I have ever witnessed. Including the time your father lit the headmaster's knickers on fire."

"We should, we couldn't hear anything anyway," George lied, kicking out at nothing.

"See, that was more convincing," Sirius teased, grinning.

"My dad lit his headmaster's knickers on fire when he was at school?" Harry asked, slightly intrigued.

"I can see how you'd think that," reasoned Sirius. "But it happened about… a think about a year before you were born. His wand 'discharged' near the stove… Dumbledore was not amused."

The teens snickered at the thought, but dropped their guard too early.

"Oh that's not half as good as what happened in the meeting?" Sirius laughed. "Did you hear what I called Snape?"

Harry went dead silent, as well as Fred and George, but Ron, with a stupid grin, said. "We must have missed that. What'd you say?"

Sirius grinned while everyone else, even Ron as he realized what he had done, groaned. "Well, I guess there's no reason to fill you lot in on current events,' Sirius rolled his eyes, thinking about all the security measures they wasted to keep the kids out of the meetings.

"So since you know about the plan I trust you understand the decision to have you stay at Grimmauld place-"

"I need to study!" Hermione proclaimed.

"Quidditch practice!" Claimed Fred and George.

"Your mom scares me!" chirped Ginny.

"Your house scared me!" chimed Ron.

"Moody freaked out transferring me from the Dursley's to your house; can you imagine the procedure for going from here?" Harry groaned.

"I'm not going to argue-" Sirius began.

"Then you'd better leave because I plan to fight to the death," George explained. Sirius was both proud and annoyed, though he decided it best to let them win as if they went back to Grimmauld place he had to go with them and as Buckbeak was enjoying the ability to fly around in the fresh air, he decided to tell Albus that they all had logical explanations for why they had to stay, and then make up some other reason to go with it.

--

As the sun set, Tonks lead the group to the forest where the girl had gone the night before. The team included her, Sirius, Dubledore, and Remus. It was dark and Remus and Sirius stayed absolutely still under the invisibility cloaks they borrowed from Harry and Mad-eye. Tonks traveled up into the school under another guise, hoping to look for the girl though there was nothing to be done if she stayed inside the school. As Tonks reached the door, however, the girl brushed past her, her eyes glancing at her, then returning to the door as she opened it. Tonks kept walking, nervously, but only because she knew that if the girl poked her head back inside and saw her standing there then the plan was ruined.

The girl, dressed slightly simpler this time, descended the steps and paused. She took a breath and her eyes scanned the grounds. She took another step and seemed battle ready. Remus swept along behind her, watching for weapons. He could see a sworn in a hilt on her side, and her knee-high boots were light, allowing quick movements. Her wand was strapped to her thigh and her finger-less-gloved hands were held at her side, ready. She entered the forest and strolled down an invisible path until the same to a rather large, fallen tree.

She climbed easily up the tree and Remus followed. Her platinum hair troubled him. Voldemort's daughter had had lighter hair… not this light though. He shook the thought out of his head as the girl jumped down. Sirius did not hesitate a bit. He was standing behind her and lunged forward at the first chance he got, grabbing her around the waist. In an instant the girl snaked her legs around and tried to trip him. Remus fired out the same spell Severus had used on him. The ropes wrapped around the girl's legs and she pin-wheeled her arms, forcing Sirius to release her and giving him a nasty jab in appreciation.

In one fluid movement she grabbed her rapier, slashed the ropes, put the rapier back in its hidden spot and spun to kick Remus. Tonks, having ran to catch up. Fired more ropes from the top of the fallen tree. The girl tried to dodge, but Sirius fired as well and she had to give up her attack on Remus to try and dodge Tonks' attack so he was free to fire as well. The girl drew her sword to slash out at the ropes, her movements quick as she sent her body low to the ground. The adults, however, simply fired again, one aiming high, the other low, and one going for the sword.

The girl twirled the blade, but was out-numbered by the multiple ropes and it was pulled out of her hands. She brandished the rapier and tried to side step to an escaping point, but they had her surrounded in an instant.

"Acio, rapier!" Dumbledore called, joining the fray as Remus and Sirius removed their invisibility cloaks.

As her weapon was ripped from her hands, the girl faced Albus, her eyes burning vengefully.

"Hello again," greeted Dumbledore, his wand at his side. "Will you surrender now?"

"I choose to search for another option," the girl replied, her eyes flickering to Sirius, Remus and Tonks.

"You can choose to come peacefully," Tonks offered, though Sirius and Remus stayed battle ready. The girl eyed them and she lifted her hands, pressing them against each other right in front of her face. She bowed slightly, slowly and paused there with her eyes shut. Tonks lowered her wand and breathed a sigh of relief, but in an instant the girl's eyes shot open, her hands circled apart, clapping against her legs and out to the side as she yelled,

"Ashes to ashes!" and fire erupted around her. Remus and Sirius fired through the flames, but the girl was gone. Tonks ran for the exit, but Dumbledore knew the girl could not have gotten that far. He apparated up into the tree above and saw her. Se was staring at the ground below, watching Sirius and Remus search. Albus raised his wand and the girl spun around, though she could not dodge his attack and instead fell towards the ground. Before se hit, she stopped, her body levitating above the ground as she spun to right herself. Sirius fired out at her and caught her legs in a tight net of rope. The girl threw a small knife his way, pinning the sleeve of his cloak to a tree. Remus bound the girl's arms together and the battle was won.

She was barely conscious after Albus's attack and as Tonks returned and fired an Auror's best knock out spell, her eyes rolled back and her body stopped it' levitation and hit the ground with a dull thud.

"That was close," Sirius gaped, trying to yank the throwing knife out of the tree and free himself.

Albus returned to the ground and instructed Remus and Sirius not to release the bind until they were back at the castle. Remus nodded as Sirius freed himself and tightened the ropes as revenge with a flick of his wrist. Tonks picked up the sword and stared over it in appreciation. It was a beautiful piece with elaborate design and even a slight gloss that colored the blade. In front of the hilt, engraved into the blade, was what looked to be a charging wolf.

The handle was molded to fit the girl's hand as it felt awkward at Tonks held it. The hilt was curved toward the blade and sloped like a triangle, creating another deadly edge and the base was the strangest part. It was a circle, but the center was a different metal and it spun independently, and the circle pivoted. Even the rapier was a special deign, though it's silver color and amethyst gems matched the sword. She began pulling weapons off the girl and tossing them into a bag, which Dumbledore instructed her to hang in a tree; they would not need to take them with them. Then she came across a book.

In the largest pocket of the cloak there was a book with a lock. Its cover was elaborate and important looking with tribal markings embossed upon it. The lock held no key hole, nor was there any visible way to unlock it. That, they decided to take with them.

"Back to the castle, then?" she suggested.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "Sirius, Remus, you can handle our guest?"

The two men nodded and the group headed for the brooms, the girl levitated and traveling behind them. No one dared to speak until they arrived at the castle and rushed down to put the girl somewhere secure. Sirius was glad to see that Harry had listened and him and his friends were nowhere in sight. Moody was waiting by the dungeon door, his magical eye scanning the cell for weapons.

"Have any trouble?" Arthur asked in a whisper as the group returned from the dungeon. His hair was ruffled

Sirius laughed wryly. "No, your average kidnapping," he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, do we have to call it that?" Molly asked, cringing as she approached the group, dressed in her night gown and robe.

"T's what it is," Moody grunted roughly, his eye rolling around distractingly as he turned and staggered off.

"Well then do we have to talk about it tonight?" Molly hissed after him. "I just barely got the children to sleep and this doesn't feel like a good example."

"Got the children to sleep?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You instructed the Fat Lady to lock them in."

Mrs. Weasley turned a glare onto him that made all the males take a step back. "Still," she growled. "Let's just get to bed and handle this in the morning."

"Good idea," Dumbledore smiled, leaning his back against the door. Sirius decided to go up and tell the kids, whom he figured were arguing with the Fat Lady, that the mission was a success. Arthur obediently followed his wife and Tonks trotted merrily after them. Remus hesitated though, but only slightly and he pushed forward forcefully and did not look back. Albus could not blame him. Sirius loved having his Godson and yet Remus had lost his Goddaughter in a crushing blow.

Dumbledore opened the dungeon door and traveled down to where the girl was. She had not moved though he was still weary as he made a chair appear and sat down to wait. He hoped Kira did not show up tonight for he could not run. It was going to be a long night of waiting, or so he thought. Not more than a half an hour later the girl's eyes opened and she sprung from the bed like it was about to erupt into flames.

"Ah, you're awake," Dumbledore smiled at her.

The girl took in the cell and quickly noticed that they had taken her weapons. "A dungeon?" she mused and gave a short laugh. "Should have known."

"I offered you a chance to surrender," Dumbledore reminded her pleasantly, as if discussing the news over breakfast.

The girl stared back at him with half-lidded eyes. "And if it had been me to offer the same choice to you?"

"Many have and I chose based on the situation," Dumbledore explained easily, leaning back in his chair. "I'm interested to hear your name," he stated.

The girl smirked and crossed her arms, pivoting her weight onto one leg. "Fascinating, but highly irrelevant," she replied.

"You are here for questioning," Dumbledore reminded her, linking his fingers, amused. "The questions I have to ask are who you are, what you want, how you came to be in this, why you are following Mr. Potter, what do you hope to achieve, and what do you know of the ANGEL program."

"Name: Nevina. Rank: Private Citizen. Serial Number: S-PQK," Nevina replied automatically, her eyes watching the Headmaster, studying and learning.

"Full name please," Dumbledore requested simply, never loosing his smile.

"Name: Nevina. Rank: Private Citizen. Serial Number: S-PQK," she repeated.

"Fascinating," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling in mockery. "But highly irrelevant."

Nevina smirked, nodded and repeated. "Name: Nevina. Rank: Private Citizen. Serial Number: S-PQK."

"Ah so you know those answers don't help?" Albus mused lightly. "Wonderful, but I'm afraid I shall have to inconvenience you until you do give answers I can use."

"Good luck," she replied icily.

Albus met her stare with one of warmth and friendship. He raised his wand and noticed that her jaw tightened and her breathing changed, preparing for torture. He flicked the wand and two glasses appeared, filled with ButterBeer. He handed one to the girl, who accepted while looking thoroughly baffled. Albus took a drink and invited her to sit, which she did. "I love Butterbeer, don't you?" he asked her politely.

She stared at him as if this was all too much for her to comprehend, but he seemed not to notice and instead nodded and took another sip. "Now," he said, setting his glass to hover in the air. "To business." He asked her each question and she replied with her name rank and serial number. She was on edge and every jerk of his hands made her tense. Albus chatted as if having a delightful conversation and Nevina answered the same way over and over again. Until-

"Enough!" she snapped. "This is not going anywhere. I am not going to answer your questions no matter what you do and you know this! What do you want from me!"

Dumbledore stared at her, half amused, almost half glad, and a smidgen confused, though he tried to look mildly surprised yet pleasant. "Well dear, I though we were just having a conversation."

She let out a frustrated cry and clenched her fists, rising to her feet though she did not dare approach him.

"That's not very courteous, dear," Dumbledore advised her, fully amused. "Very well," he said. "Ms. Private Citizen, you answer questions like a soldier. If you wish to act like a POW then that is your decision."

"War?" Nevina slumped back onto the bed. "Oh, so if I am a prisoner of war then that means you want to know what side I'm on. Then again, if I am already a prisoner you know which side I am on."

"I am merely inconveniencing you for questioning and for attacking young Mr. Potter," Albus explained lightly. "For all I know you are a neutral party, but I'm having a horrible time deciding unless you'd like to tell me."

Nevina opened her mouth as if to snap, then stopped and a sneer crossed her lips. "Tricky, tricky," she sat up a little straighter. "But what if I were to simply answer 'not yours,' and leave it at that?"

"Then I suppose it would be up to me to decide what you meant," Dumbledore humored her, knowing she was buying time but not knowing what for. He assumed she figured he would get tired long before she would.

"Go ahead," the girl invited, trying to play Dumbledore's game. "You will decide and I will leave."

Dumbledore smiled at her, his eyes twinkling brightly. "That's only one question."

Nevina sighed. "Then I repeat. Name: Nevina. Rank: Private Citizen. Serial Number: S-PQK."

Dumbledore hid his disappointment. The ANGELs were highly trained and now he had to question one. He had been so sure she had been about to crack, but it looked like it was going to take some time. Taking his eyes from the girl, Albus took the book out of his pocket. Nevina's eyes locked onto it like search missiles and followed every move Albus made.

"That is mine," she growled threateningly.

Albus chuckled softly. "Yes, I know. Obviously it's rather important to you-"

"Give it back," she ordered, and rose to her feet- a predator on the prowl.

Albus tilted his head slightly and smiled at her again. "Obviously it is important to you so I think I'll read it."

"_You_ can not unlock it," she spat.

Dumbledore smiled at the thought of not being able to dispel a spell a student had put upon a book, but considered that there was a special enchantment and he really couldn't. "Then I'll just hold onto it as you won't be needing-"

"Give it back!"

Dumbledore frowned and tapped his wand against the book. The girl froze and backed off so that she was sitting again though her eyes never left her book. Albus nodded and studied her. "What's in it?" he asked curiously.

"None of your-" he tapped the book again, sparks cascading out this time, and she seemed to be unable to speak.

"Might I remind you that you're here for questioning and thus this is my business," Dumbledore reminded her cheerfully. "More to drink?"

"F-fine destroy it, but I will not answer your questions," Nevina replied, though her tone was failing her for once.

"Destroy it?" Dumbledore smiled bewilderedly. "I merely asked if you wanted more to drink."

Nevina did not reply- it looked as though she was battling her thoughts and her insides were tying themselves into neatly organized knots. The book was obviously very dear to her and definitely worth keeping. Albus looked at it in consideration, every second he hesitated seemed to make the girl suffer and she would not even look at him.

"No, I think I shall keep it," he finally decided, though Nevina did not reply. "So, where were we?"

Nevina jumped to her feet. "Ashes to-!"

Dumbledore had his wand out in an instant and fired out a spell that knocked the wind from the girl. The fact that she was willing to attack proved she was reaching her limit, but also signaled that it was time for interrogations to stop as he did not want to fight her. "Calm yourself," he instructed her as she began trying to climb to her feet. "Get some sleep I shall see you again in a few hours." With that he tucked the book into his pocket and strode to the door, opening it with his wand and closing it again once he was out.

Nevina was at the door as it closed, wishing she had been only a few seconds faster as she listened to the echo of Dumbledore's footprints, memorizing their sound. She heard him lock the door at the top of the stairs and thought of calling out. It was dark and cold and she hated being locked up. Yet, as she opened her mouth she could not think of anything to say other than,

"You can not just leave me down here!"

Dumbledore simply unlocked the door and stepped back inside. "Legally, no," he smiled. "But let's not let rules stand in our way, shall we? After all it was you who attacked young Mr. Potter."

"You say young as if there is an old," Nevina retorted sharply.

She was trying to press a nerve, though he could not fathom as to why. "I suppose I do," Dumbledore replied merrily. "Goodnight." He turned and opened the door, closing it behind him and locking it again.

Testily, Nevina rattled the door to her cell and listened to the lock, it was a padlock.

She peered out the barred window and down at the lock. If she had something to stand on she might have been able to reach it, but the bed was simply a board resting in the crevice of the grey brick wall with a thin mattress nailed to it and two chains attached to the wall as the only thing holding it up.

She sat on the bed when suddenly she heard a noise and the dungeon door unlocked. Whoever it was hung the keys on a hook and proceeded down to the very last cell where Nevina was. He took off his cloak and became visible again. Nevina smirked.

"Why all the secrecy, afraid of your own side?" she mused, standing up to approach the door.

"I remember you," Harry replied, peering at her through the bars.

"What?" she questioned, taken aback.

"Last year I saw you in the park, sitting in one of the trees," Harry clarified, his green eyes locked onto her. "Why are you following me?"

Nevina froze for a few moments, staring at him before she looked away and said "Name: Nevina. Rank: Private Citizen. Serial Number: S-PQK."

"Name, rank and serial number?" Harry questioned, shaking his head. "That does not answer anything."

Nevina let out an annoyed sigh and sat with her back to the door so he couldn't see her. "Then stop asking questions."

"Are you working for Voldemort?" Harry demanded loudly, though all he got in return was silence. "Who are you? What is an angel?"

The silence was broken as the girl began to laugh. She laughed mockingly and did not stop even as Harry shoved the door in anger and demanded that she stop.

"You really are ignorant, do you know that?" she asked upon finally quieting down. "You think you know so much but you don't know anything."

"Then tell me," Harry ordered stiffly. His anger radiated loud and heavy.

"…No," Nevina drawled. "I think you should ask _them_ for they are the ones keeping secrets from you."

"Why won't _you_ answer?" Harry leaned close to the door and saw that she had moved from the door and was sitting on her heels, staring up as if she expected him to do that.

"For what questions do answers you seek, and what lies will you accept for them?"

Harry looked her up and down. "You don't look any older than me and no one I know talks like that. Why can't you just be real and answer? What secrets are you keeping that are so important?"

She stood and leaned close to the bars, both hands gripping a bar. "You have no idea," she whispered just loudly and hauntingly for him to hear her. "You may want to ask them about the ANGEL project though- might be shocked by what you hear."

"What are you talking about?"

Nevina laughed. "They never told you? They never told you about her? Never said a word about how they left her to die all alone?"

"What!"

"Ask them! For it is not my place to say."

"Tell me!"

"Name: Nevina. Rank: Private Citizen. Serial Number: S-PQK."

---

Two days had turned up nothing more as no one could make the girl answer. Moody recommended a shot of a potion that would make the girl's nervous system crackle and burn, but Dumbledore did not want to hurt her, though she was doing a lovely job of that herself. She would not eat nor sleep and seemed to enjoy irritating all who dared to try and talk to her. The teens had all seen her and heard about her, even tried their luck at questioning her through the door though there were times she just seemed to disappear even to Moody, and always she would attack with fire if anyone got too close.

"She's a psychological villain," Tonks stated quite cheerfully at breakfast. "She's trying to outwit us, loves mocking us, and she's got that amused smile like she is dealing with a four-year-old."

"Sure, but she hits too," Kingsley mumbled darkly, massaging his jaw.

"I still stand that we should try a truth serum," hissed Snape.

"Won't work on an ANGEL," Remus again reminded him. "The only weakness I know of for them is water."

"Let's flood 'er cell," proposed Mad-eye gruffly. "Jus' fer a few-"

"No!" Molly snapped, coming back from delivering a plate of toast to the girl. She doubted it would be eaten but needed to try something.

"Well we have to do something," sighed Arthur glumly.

The teenagers did not dare to speak, afraid the exhausted adults would remember that they did not want them hearing the meetings. Sirius also chose not to speak, though mostly because for once he was trying to think of a long-term solution.

"We will erase her memory," Albus explained lightly, entering to room and not looking at Harry. "Her abilities would be of grand use to whichever side has her, and if we erase her memory we may be able to re-write it with her on our side."

"The best way to fight an enemy is to use their knowledge against them," Sirius quoted a phrase James had said once.

"I can see no other way," Albus admitted, looking tired as he had not slept once since the first encounter with the girl. "It is the only way to find out Voldemort's plans as we can convince her she is a spy for us."

"Would that work?" Arthur asked tentatively.

"The mind is vulnerable in ever creature with eyes," Remus explained with a nod. "But it would take every grown man and woman here to do a spell of that strength without fatal damage."

"So long as it works," Kingsley shrugged. Harry glanced over at Ron, who looked back at him and tried to appear normal. He knew Harry wanted to know why the girl was following him and if they did this then she would forget.

"Still," Sirius interjected, seeing Harry's look. "I mean, messing with someone's memory. It sounds more like something Takai would do and let's say she joins us. If she is a spy then she is in danger of being caught and if she ever fought out for our cause I'm sure Voldemort would have proof that we had tricked her. Then what? She either re-joins him and spies on us, or has a breakdown as she realizes everything she thought was true is a lie."

"…I see your point," Remus nodded, as did Molly, Tonks, and Kingsley. "But do you have a different idea?"

"We all go down and try intimidation," Sirius offered. "Come on she is just one person and no matter what act she puts up I know she hates being locked up. If we threaten her she'll talk."

"Thought that's what we've been doing?" Kingsley admitted with a sigh.

"We have to make her answer the questions," Arthur recounted. "Then we can find out what to do with her… Now this Kira I've heard you lot mention," he added to Sirius, Remus and Albus. "She wouldn't be a little blond thing with purple eyes would she?"

Remus and Sirius stared at the table, but Albus looked to Fred and George and smiled. "What a wonderful job you lot have done sneaking into the meeting," he was smiling though they could see the disapproval and slid out of their seats and out of the room quite grudgingly.

Meanwhile.

Nevina balanced carefully on the plate and reached her arm out towards the lock, a pick already in her hand. She managed to unlock the cell door and yank out the padlock within minutes and left the cell, re-locking it in a mockery of courtesy. The door at the top would have been difficult, but Mrs. Weasley had not noticed that the sleeping girl had reprieved her of her keys while she had been setting down the plate and so the door to the dungeon was unlocked.

Nevina hung the keys on the hook, feeling Dumbledore would find the humor in them being there. That was when she heard laughter and hid. Twin boys and a girl passed her and she slipped out behind them, seeing two more boys and another girl and scowling at her inability to make a proper escape.

Hermione saw her first and froze, but Nevina dashed passed them, having to take the long way. Hermione ran down a shorter way to cut off Nevina, with Ron and Harry at her heels.

"You're not escaping that easily!" growled Hermione, blocking Nevina's path as they successfully cut the girl off.

Nevina stopped, a bit annoyed by this. "And why is it I am being kept here?" she asked indifferently.

"Well, we wouldn't have to _keep_ you here if you'd be polite enough to stay on your own," Hermione answered, struggling to control her tone.

"Stop, stay there, take a nap, lock yourself up or something," laughed Nevina mockingly. "You are a society trained fool, do you know that?"

Hermione's face reddened and she clenched her fists. "We just want to ask you some questions, but you're being difficult!"

"Is that what you think?" Nevina asked innocently, one arm across her waist while her other hand rested beneath her chin

"Of course! That is what Professor Dumbledore told us," exclaimed Hermione, throwing her arms to the side.

"Society trained fool," Nevina shook her head as if diagnosing a virus. "And what if my answers are not to his agreement?" she questioned, leaning forward as if paying close attention to Hermione.

"Well. Then. I…he…because. You see. That would make you-"

"The villain?" Nevina offered as Hermione babbled.

"Well, yes, I suppose," Hermione looked weak and confused. Nevina seemed to be toying with her mind. Hermione had answered before she'd even thought about it, this seemed to dawn on her as- "That's not fair. You tricked me."

"But is that _not_ what it would make me?" Nevina asked neutrally. "Logically," she added.

"Well, logically, yes, but-"

"You are a logical person, right?" Nevina questioned, furrowing her brow.

Hermione drew in a breath. "Yes!" She pronounced in frustration. "But I wasn't going to say that you were the villain."

"Really?" Nevina asked as if surprised. "But that is the commonsensical answer, the first to reach a rational person's mind. You are a logical person. So how come you held back that answer?"

"I..." Hermione started, but wasn't used to this type of battle. It had always been Harry dealing with the evil and Ron and her acting as back up. Not taking on the antagonist.

"Was trying to trick me," concluded Nevina, nodding her head.

Hermione's lips pursed. "No-"

"Oh, no," Nevina interrupted quickly. "I am not blaming you. I am just proving the point that you know in your gut that this is wrong, but you were told it was right, so…" she drawled out her voice like Draco Malfoy.

"Just exactly what are you accusing me of?" demanded Hermione.

"Only being a society trained fool," Nevina replied casually. "You can not see the truth between the lies."

"Look here now!" Hermione snapped demandingly. "Okay, maybe if your answers hadn't gone along with ours it would be bad. But I'm sure Professor Dumbledore just wants to sort everything out. Once you've heard what he has to say I'm sure he'll let you go."

"Wrong," stated Nevina crossing her arms. "You can do it, come on."

Hermione fixed her with a piercing glare and spoke through clenched teeth. "Well... he just wants to-"

"The simple statement of "just wants to" is also wrong," stated Nevina like a teacher giving hints on a test.

"He wants to talk to you-- get you to answer a few questions," huffed Hermione.

"Correct," Nevina nodded, looking pleased; that expression changed however as she shook her head mournfully and said, "But late and incomplete." She ducked out of view around the pillar.

Hermione ran to the side, followed by Harry and Ron. They cut off Nevina before she got past. Though the girl did not seem too bothered by this for she simply jumped back away from them and smiled her familiar I-am-slightly-amused, smile.

"And if your answers don't match-" Hermione started, hands out as if she was convinced she could draw the evil out of the girl.

"'Match?'" mocked Nevina.

"If your answers agree more with Voldemort, than the Order," Hermione clarified tentatively. "Then he'll ask you why you feel that way," she reasoned.

"Then what?" Nevina asked re-crossing her arms and making it clear she would stay while Hermione thought this out.

Hermione sounded like she thought she was convincing Nevina to give in. "Then he'll let you go." She seemed to be trying to will Nevina into talking sensibly. "Simple as that."

"Wrong," Nevina shook her head; standing above them gave her an ominous approach and added depth to her words. "To 'talk' requires two things. One: a listening partner. Two: a conversation. What you have done is taken a hostage in for questioning. Unless you have seen differently, _I _cannot remember a hostage ever being taken just for a simple… chat."

"Hostage?" Hermione questioned, trying Nevina's superior tone. "A hostage requires a war. What side are you saying that you are on?"

Nevina tilted her head and gave a slight bow, a small, pleased smile spreading across her lips. "Excellent response. Perhaps you are not as much a fool as I had thought. However, being held against your will is capture. You have yet to tell me what happens if my answers are against yours."

Hermione took a step towards Nevina, like they were old friends. Nevina was above them, giving an ill-omened approach to her words and the power in her control. Hermione didn't see it this way. "No one is going to hurt you," she took another step, her voice sweet and comforting, making it seem like Nevina was afraid of them. "I can see how you'd think that. However, all Professor Dumbledore and the other Order members want are a few answers. Even if your answers are against ours he'll jus- he will understand."

"Wrong again, but thanks for playing the game," Nevina smiled and disappeared from view again.

"If your answers don't agree with ours then you-" Hermione called after her, using the age old knowledge of villains against Nevina. They couldn't let the hero have the last laugh. Otherwise they were saying the hero is right. Nevina seemed more of Tonks' physiological villain; she lost ground if she let the hero gain the upper hand in an argument.

"Must be evil?" Nevina asked, appearing again. She was out of reach and if she ran now they'd loose her. However, Hermione had been right.

"Well, yeah!" Hermione yelled over to her. "We are the good guys!"

"Then you do not exist," Nevina's voice sounded somewhat hesitant, sad maybe. She stepped to the side and was leaning against a wall with her arms crossed and her head tilted down. She was not looking at them and they approached as quickly as they dared.

"... oh," Nevina murmured. "That is right! That is why I am the villain. For those that oppose the thoughts of the good, are then considered the evil," she addressed the floor. They couldn't tell if she was talking to herself or them, but continued their creeping way towards her. She turned to look at them as soon as she finished. "I hate to tell you this, kiddies, but if that is the way you want to play this out then it will never end. You see, the battle of good versus evil has been going on since the dawn of time!"

"Good is stronger then evil!" Hermione called over to her, moving forward slightly faster than Harry and Ron would have dared. "Good always wins!"

"Then why is there still evil?" Nevina asked, once again addressing the floor and seeming to be oblivious with how close Hermione was trying to get. "Why does the battle rage on?"

Hermione didn't have an answer for that. She opened her mouth and took a breath, a sound started in her throat. But, she didn't have an answer.

"Exactly," Nevina shook her head sympathetically at Hermione.

"Our parents are good," Ron prompted.

"That's right!" Hermione started again in a victorious cheer. "The battle is carried on by the children, but good ALWAYS wins!" She gave a congratulating look to Ron as if they'd just won.

"So, if you shall eventually beat me, why should I stay now?" Nevina asked as if scheduling her downfall on a day planner. "We are destined to fight someday, it seems. I have just started before you, so either catch up or wait till you grow up. Then we shall start this battle again on equal terms."

Ron shrugged to Hermione, he didn't have an answer. Neither did Harry or Hermione.

Nevina let out a sigh.

"Forget that question if you cannot answer it," she allowed. "There is no answer. Did you know that good battles good? And that evil battles evil? Is one side of those sides good or evil? Which one, and how can you tell? Answer me that, child." Nevina turned a piercing glare onto Hermione, her tone held a lot of bite and her gaze froze Hermione in mid-step and barely out of arm's reach.

Boldly, Hermione took a step forward so she was roughly a foot away from the girl. She took in a triumphant breath and looked back at Harry and Ron, announcing her victory. She had only to reach out and she could grab the girl. However, Nevina stared at her and slowly a smirk slid across her lips.

"Now what?" she mused. "You have _snuck_ your way over here. Tell me, what is it you are going to do now?"

Hermione swallowed. She didn't exactly know what to do as grabbing the girl didn't seem like such a good idea now that she was so close and could see the excellent physical condition her opponent was in. "If I tell you my next move," she stuttered. "I loose my advantage. Right now my next move depends on you."

Nevina gave her a look that proved she wasn't buying it, but she shrugged. "Fine." In the blink of an eye Nevina had produced a rapier and grabbed Hermione, pressing the weapon to her throat.

Hermione let out a startled cry and Ron and Harry dashed forward, freezing the moment Nevina turned her harsh gaze onto them.

"Surprise, surprise, kiddies," Nevina called over to them in a cynical hiss. "Welcome to the real world. Your childish behavior does not work and villains will not spare you because you are young."

"Let her go," Harry demanded, wand out and aimed at Nevina. "You can't kill your hostage and expect us not to fire, and you can't drag her through the halls as you try to escape because Dumbledore will have undoubtedly heard by then. It's over, let her go and give up and no one will hurt you."

Nevina looked at him. "Valid point," she nodded. "But I have an option C." Nevina shoved Hermione forward, releasing her from her grasp. She waited only a few seconds as Ron and Harry caught Hermione, and then disappeared in one quick movement.

"Oh, no you don't!" Hermione bellowed and headed down the stairs. "Come on we'll cut her off before she reaches the exit!" she ordered Ron and Harry.

"...Did someone just out-smart Hermione?" Ron asked, staring in disbelief.

"Shhh!" replied Harry. They chased after Hermione, who stopped and told them to split up. Nevina had taken a different rout. Harry, however, knew the villain always looked for an escape, so he headed straight for the front door. When he arrived, Nevina was pulling it open. Harry slammed himself against one of the doors, forcing it shut. He fired out a spell and Nevina narrowly avoided it as the cost of retreating from the door. Harry fired out again and Nevina rolled out of the way.

"Move!" she demanded, glowering at him threateningly.

Harry pressed his back against the door and kept his wand raised, pointed at her heart. He shook his head. Nevina took a menacing step forward.

"Move!" she ordered, starting to look desperate as Hermione yelled out, "Forget searching. I'm going to get the Professors!" Harry fired out at her in an attempt to keep her as far away as possible. He wasn't stupid.

Nevina parried his attack and he found himself within arms reach of her. "Move or I will make you move!" Nevina growled at him, sweat visible on her forehead.

Harry didn't trust himself to open his mouth. He was afraid, and she was looking murderous, but he couldn't let her escape. They needed answers and something inside him just had to know who she was. He shook his head slowly, keeping his eyes locked on her. She fixed him with a stare, shaking with rage, then turned and sprinted down the hall, past the house point hourglasses. Harry fired out a spell, and hit her left arm with a painful spell as she dove around one of the hour glasses and escaped through a door.

Harry knew running after her would be pointless with the order members already searching the halls. Though he saw his shot had cut her, drops of blood were visible on stone floor. He followed them, catching up with Albus, who had noticed the blood already. They followed it quickly, but the trail ended at a window which looked too small for a person to fit through. Then again, Nevina was limber, the real problem Harry had was how far up the widow was. If someone had jumped from it they would have died on impact. Still, he spun to head for the exit.

"No," Dumbledore stopped him. "She's not heading there."

He took off towards where they had been holding the meeting and sure enough, there she was, the book clutched under her arm and one leg out the window. She saw them and leaned out the window. Harry leaned out it to see her running across one of the roofs, then she leapt and was gone.


	5. Psychotic ANGEL

**"Girl Anachronism"**

You can tell  
From the scars on my arms  
And stains on my skirt  
And the dents in my car  
And the veins about to burst  
That I'm not the carefullest of girls  
You can tell  
From the glass on the floor  
And the strings that are breaking  
And I keep on breaking more  
And it looks like I am shaking  
But it's just the temperature  
But then again  
If it were any colder I could disengage  
If I were any older I could act my age  
But I don't think that you'd believe me  
It's  
Not  
The  
Way  
I'm  
Meant  
To  
Be  
It's just the way the operation made me

And you can tell  
From the state of my room  
That they let me out too soon  
And the pills that I ate  
Came a couple years too late  
And I've got some issues to work through  
There I go again  
Pretending to be you  
Make-believing  
That I have a soul beneath the surface   
Trying to convince you  
It was accidentally on purpose

I am not so serious  
This passion is a plagiarism  
I might join your century  
But only on a rare occasion  
I was taken out   
Before the labor pains set in and now  
Behold the world's worst accident  
I am the girl anachronism

And you can tell  
By the red in my eyes  
And the bruises on my thighs  
And the knots in my hair  
And the bathtub full of flies  
That I'm not alright at all  
There I go again  
Pretending that I'll fall   
Don't call the doctors  
Cause they've seen it all before   
They'll say just  
Let  
Her  
Crash  
And  
Burn   
She'll learn  
The attention just encourages her

And you can tell  
From the full-body cast  
That I'm sorry that I asked  
Though you did everything you could  
(like any decent person would)  
But I might be catching

So don't touch!  
You'll start believing you're immune to gravity and stuff  
But don't get me wet!  
Because the bandages will all come off

And you can tell  
From the smoke at the stake  
That the current state is critical  
Well it is the little things, for instance:  
In the time it takes to break it she can make up ten excuses:  
Please excuse her for the day, its just the way the medication makes her...

I don't necessarily believe there is a cure for this  
So, I might join your century but only as a doubtful guest  
I was too precarious removed as a caesarian   
Behold the worlds worst accident  
I AM THE GIRL ANACHRONISM

--- (Fitting, no? You'll get it later.)

Snow had been falling for the last three days and yet not one footprint had been left by the girl. They could not see where she had landed, and some supported the paranoid fantasy that she had not really left the school, but had instead stuck around to kill Harry in his sleep. This speculation had been brought about by Fred and was quickly adopted by George. Harry did not care much about their joke as he had other things on his mind. He had raced out of the castle and towards the forest. He was not sure how, but it as if he was reading her mind and knew where she would go. He entered through the whomping willow and found her easily enough in the shrieking shack.

He knew someone must have followed him as he had hoped someone would. Yet when he found her, it was as if she had been waiting for him. She was finishing a letter and stood up when she was done.

"Ah, so we meet again," she had said. "What is your move?"

Harry had raised his wand and told her to be still, but she only laughed, threw the folded up note at him like a ninja star and vanished in an explosion.

'I am free, free as a bird with the will to fly,' the note had read. 'However, you trapped this bird. Clever trap, there was no way out. Until you made a mistake and the bird took flight. Flying again, even though now there were people on its tail, but this bird has got a long tail. You can not reel it in; you have to follow it if you wish to capture the bird. However, this is a very quick bird; you'll have to be just as quick! When you reach the bird, if you do, it has got sharp talons and will be awaiting your action. What will you do, no time to think, the bird takes flight as you hesitate. Can't pause to reason, can't strategize. You'll have to use pure instinct. Running again, on the tail, the bird is quick, pause and you'll fail. When you meet the bird again, and beat her strike, follow your instincts and do what's right.

'Do you kill the bird? Try to trap her again? This bird is free. She won't be caged. You must kill her- can you? This is the game, and welcome to it! You can back out now, but once you strike, it's your fault she's dead. Can you live with that? You must, you strike, and it's your fault, your body, your mind, and your soul that took her life. Your innocence is at stake here. How much is it worth to you?'

He had tried to ask about Kira, but no one, not even Sirius, would answer him. They were mad at him for running after her, not that he cared. The adults had confined themselves into the room of requirements and had been in heavy debate all afternoon. They did not bother asking Sir Rusty to watch the children as that seemed only to cause problems for him. The teens were left to herd through the halls and visit the kitchen. They knew that Dumbledore had sent a summons to Irving in the form of a howler that Fred and George had enchanted to continue forever.

The message was politely said and even in a lilac envelope, but it just never shut up. Irving had trumped that move by sending it right back and Fred and George had spent their afternoon trying to turn it off. Dumbledore sent another letter, this one simply said: I apologize for earlier irritation. I shall instead ask the Ministry about looking for the girl. Thank you.

Irving had yet to respond to that, though Harry was sure there had been a few floosystem conversations before the notes had been sent. Dumbledore had also visited the ministry, which was where he had gotten the stationary for the last note. He had gone to ask about reopening Hogwarts, but really he had gone to make sure Umbridge would not be coming home early, something Arthur was to be taking over after the weekend. He had just returned when someone knocked on the door. It was Irving, looking rather travel worn. Harry saw him as a tall man with a long ponytail of reddish brown hair, amber eyes and a very dignified face. He had the look of someone wild who had been tamed, much like Sirius.

He saw Harry and nodded to him. "You were the one attacked?" he asked simply.

"And followed," Harry confirmed.

Irving made a curious noise in his throat and brushed some snow off his jacket. "Your headmaster made it seem like you'd been mauled."

"Yet you knew he was the one that had been attacked," Hermione raised her eyebrows and looked highly suspicious. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she fixed him with a piercing stare.

Irving ignored her and in an instant he brandished and odd looking ball with a key sticking out of the top. Harry saw why as Moody leapt forward, his wand out like a deadly foil. Irving turned the key and the ball popped open as he said, "Shield." A blue, watery shield cascaded over him and Moody's shot bounced off. Harry could not see what was inside the golden ball as a bright light was emanating from it and a ticking sound was all he could hear.

The order members were surrounding him in a second, each staring in curiosity, yet still ready to fight. Dumbledore, however, lowered his wand and approached. Irving lowered his shield and the ball closed. He replaced it into his pocket and stood facing Dumbledore.

"This how you welcome all guests, or am I special?" He asked pointedly.

"How nice of you to come," Dumbledore greeted warmly. His eyes sparkling politely as he ignored the fact that Irving had been fired upon. "How was your journey?"

Irving threw the comment aside like the pleasantry it was and removed his coat. He the sandy colored coat over his arm and withdrew Dumbledore's letter. "Shall we just deal with the topic at had, or would you like to dance around it for a while?"

"Merely exchanging greetings," Dumbledore replied lightly, his eyes twinkling and his smile warm. Irving removed his wide-brimmed hat as he waited for the headmaster to continue. "Very well, if you'll come this way," Dumbledore invited, bowing Irving towards his office.

Irving stepped past Harry without giving him a second glance as he followed the headmaster with a glowering Minerva on his heels. Harry dared to follow, but was stopped by Mrs. Weasley, who had tasks for the teenagers to do. When Irving arrived in the office he chose to remain standing and leaned against the wall. Minerva entered behind him and held the door open for Remus. Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk and cast a spell for drinks. Remus was silent as he took a seat in the back of the room and held his questions. Minerva, however, was not as patient and took a seat near the door where she could keep an eye on the newcomer and be fight in the conversation.

Dumbledore offered around the drinks, some kind of cherry wine, and looked to Irving. "Not to start things off with accusations," he began politely enough. "But I do recall you telling me the girl I was looking for was not in attendance to your school. Yet that is where-"

"You kidnapped her from," Irving cut in, his tone matching Dumbledore's in lightness. "Yes, I am the liar, but you lot…" he shook his head. "I had heard such tails of your brilliance, and yet you attack a child and hold her against her will. In a dungeon no less!"

Dumbledore waited patiently, his eyes focused as he listened carefully as if nothing could be more important. When Irving was finished, he said, "So you've spoken to her then?"

It was clear that Irving was trying to control his temper. He seemed angrier that Dumbledore had expected and every gaze he gave was full of accusation and disgust. "Yes," he clarified. "And might I say I do not appreciate you capturing students from LunarEclipse."

"I don't appreciate students at Hogwarts being attack by students at LunarEclipse," Dumbledore replied lightly and with an air of laughter.

"The boy is fine," Irving argued. "She would not have hurt him."

"No, just a friendly little stabbing between two people that don't know each other," Minerva said curtly. "It's all well and good."

Irving glanced at her nonchalantly and shrugged. "It hardly deserved the retaliation it received."

"Moving back to why you told me she did not attend LunarEclipse," Dumbledore steered the debate back on course with an airy tone.

Irving sighed. "I will talk to her again-"

"Talk?" Minerva interrupted. "A simple chat is not enough. That girl is dangerous."

"Please, back to why you did not tell me she was there," said Dumbledore loudly. "When I was there and we might have discussed this without the unpleasant kidnapping."

Irving shook his head. "It is a long story," he turned back to Remus and said, "You already know of the ANGEL project and what I used to do for it."

Remus nodded. "I know the basics."

"Well you should also know that I quit and have been working at LunarEclipse ever since," Irving informed them. "Yes, Nevina is an ANGEL- A rather important one in fact."

Remus stood. "You're telling me the ANGEL program has ANGELs already sent out?"

Irving hesitated. "Not exactly," he said.

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore questioned.

Irving began pacing. "She escaped the lab."

"Excuse me, how do you come into all this," Minerva asked sharply.

"I was her teacher," Irving stated. "I was in charge of-"

"You were Kira's teacher," Remus interrupted lowly. His tone held longing and sadness that answered a lot of Dumbledore's questions as to what Irving did for the ANGEL project. "You helped us get her out of the base."

"Lot of good that did," Irving whispered coldly. "Nevina was different. She wasn't as innocent as Kira was-"

"Was?" Remus stopped him. He had to know. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had always though that Kira had survived somehow and had been taken to the lab. But if she was innocent, not IS innocent then she was… he'd finally have to let her go.

"Yes, was," Irving confirmed, his tone showing he knew what Remus was asking. "She WAS a lot of things. She WAS a blond little girl full of innocence."

"Anyway!" Minerva snapped, seeing the crushed look upon Remus' face. "You were Nevina's teacher…"

"Yes," Irving nodded. "Takai gave me the important ones. I taught her everything I could, but unlike Kira, I did not have her from birth. I got her at the age of 6, and by then a lot of damage had been done. Still, she was just a kid, like any other. That is why I did not tell you she was at the school. She doesn't much listen to me anymore, but I assure you she is not going to kill your students."

"Why do I get the feeling that you are protecting that Demon!" grumbled Minerva. "She is hanging around with Death Eaters and attacking people. Oh and killing them too!"

Irving stopped in his tracks and turned around so he was facing her. "Demon?" His voice was full of shock and confusion. "She is a child, or can't you see that?"

"Child! Some child-"

"It's my fault," breathed Irving, shaking his head.

"What?" Minerva asked.

Irving stared from one face to another, then sighed and took a breath. "Once upon a time...

Flashback

"Irving!" The small girl ran to him, her white hair tied in pigtails and trailing behind her. Her purple eyes were full of fear and her hands were shaking as she grabbed his cloak.

"Nevina, what's wrong?" Irving asked her, startled by the terror in her eyes.

"I have a soul, right!" She pleaded, breathing fast.

"What? What is this about, Nevina?"

"You said that they tried to kill Kira, but could nOt because she had a soul!" Her voice was little above a desperate cry and she tugged at his cloak with each sentence.

"Yes, that's right, but-"

"Do I have a soul!" Her eyes were crying even if no tears fell.

"Nevina?"

"Tell me! Tell me I have a soul! If I do they can not destroy me!" She shuddered and her eyes looked up into his face, full of terror.

"Nevina? What is wrong?" Irving asked slowly, kneeling in front of her.

"That is true, right?" she screamed, her breath coming quick and tightly.

"Y-yes. Kira lived through the black monsters attack because of her innocents and her soul."

"But, if I have a soul they can not destroy me!"

"Nevina... What's the matter?"

"I need to know! Please! I do not want to die!" She admitted, shaking her head fiercely.

"Die? Who said you were going to die?" Irving held her chin and brought her gaze up to him, but before he could speak there was a loud pounding on the door.

"Open the door, Nevina! It's dangerous in there," hissed a voice.

"It will not hurt because I have a soul! It will not hurt, right!" begged Nevina, sobbing dry sobs.

The banging of the door cut through Irving's words. Why were soldiers trying to get into his room and why were they after Nevina? Each bang made her jump and brought her closer to loosing all control and giving in to her fear completely.

"Open the door little girl!" ordered another voice somewhat more kindly, yet his voice was dripping with malice.

"Nevina, what is going on?"

"There are mean!" Nevina shrieked, her voice rising with each word. "They talk sweetly but they kill and they hurt and they murder!"

The door flew open and Nevina pulled on Irving's shirt. "It won't hurt, right!"

The two men grabbed her before Irving could respond. They each had her just above her elbows and drug her backwards. The fear in her tearless eyes was almost unbearable as she fought and twisted and kicked. Irving stood up, following the men, running now. They weren't supposed to do anything to Nevina. Not until she was older!

"Irving!" she cried.

"Nevina! No!" Irving called after her. The men moved into a security chamber and the thick glass doors snapped shut behind them. Irving pounded his fists on it, though he did not dare enter. They carried Nevina through the hallway and through the steel doors on the other side as she kicked and fought.

The two men carried her through the security chamber, the thick glass doors close. Irving pounds his fist against it as the small girl is carried from his sight, kicking and fighting and screaming his name.

end of flashback

"And I just... stood there. I figured there was nothing I could do for her, so I just stood there and let them destroy her. She was just a scared child, and I did nothing," Irving explained. "She can't trust me now, because I let them take her into that hell."

"That was a long time ago-" Minerva started, feeling somewhat sympathetic for the man who seemed so upset by his mistake, yet still feeling cross towards Nevina. The girl was psychotic and needed to be taught a lesson.

"Don't say she should move on! Don't you dare. You have no idea what they did to her," Irving looked at Minerva, his eyes cold and icy. "They took a child, and turned her into nothing better then an ultimate weapon. They drove into her mind that she was nothing worth caring about. They did it in a week! They destroyed her in a week! That's how hard it was!"

"So, why do you bother trying to protect her?" asked Dumbledore, fingers linked as he listened.

Irving turned to him as if just now realizing someone else was in the room. "Because I can't," he admitted. "I left when I thought she was beyond my reach."

"Yet, here she is. And we need to know how to stop her," Minerva reminded him. "But you're prepared to let her have her way."

"Her torture lasted up until she was level ten," Irving sniped at her. "Then they decided to kill her. I quit after they did. The last thing I saw while I was there was when I went to the place they had put her body. I was only allowed in once they were sure she was dead. I watched them take her into the room where they put the corpses," he shuddered and his voice broke.

"I knew she was still alive, but you really couldn't count it as alive. She was fighting, but... it was no use. So I left. I thought she was dead until two years year later a ghost showed up. Walking through the halls. I knew it was her... but she didn't remember me. Every night she'd toss and turn and hear Takai's voice in her head. She'd fight it, but that was why she never forgot that she was made to kill. Because he reminded her every time she closed her eyes. He destroyed her in everyway he could," Irving paused to emphasize his point. "Yet, somehow, that little girl maintained her heart. She may be a bit... rough... and unquestionably sarcastic at times. But she'd do anything for her friends and she watches over every student at the school. So don't go calling her a demon. You don't know her."

"If she believes she is nothing, then why do you think she maintained her heart?" asked Minerva, curtly.

Irving smiled. "I am nothing, except what I make of myself," he whispered.

"What?" Minerva asked, leaning closer so she could hear him.

Irving beamed with pride as he recalled the memory. "That is what she told me. 'I am nothing, except what I make of myself. They can't take that away from me.' She told me that, and it's true. She holds on to everything she's got, and that, to her, is something."

"So, you're saying that this lab made de-" Minerva took a breath. "This lab made child. Was tortured to the point of madness, then nearly killed, then awoke and is roaming the streets. Thank you, I feel better now."

"Can she be saved? In your opinion," Dumbledore questioned.

"Saved?" Irving stared at him. He looked down momentarily, then, in a voice just above a whisper he said, "No."

"So why are you protecting her!" Minerva demanded.

"Madam, are you suggesting that I turn my back on her? How often do you turn you back on a tortured soul? Nevina is beautiful, even if you can't see it."

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked.

"She's a sweetheart once you get to know her," Irving stated. "She probably doesn't even understand that you are all afraid of her." When Minerva's skeptical look did not change he decided to go for another approach. "How often do you think that little 'time bomb' could have killed you?" he questioned.

Minerva was silent for a while. "...Do you think she would?"

"Nah," Irving smiled, "She's got bigger problems."

"If she's as troubled as you say, then how do we stop her?" Minerva asked.

"Mind you, we mean her no harm at this moment. Playing into her fears enough to find out about her is enough," Dumbledore added.

"Nevina has one fear that runs deeper then anything you can imagine. It's the only threat that would force her to obey."

"What is it? Maybe we can use it against her," Minerva stated.

"... No," Irving shook his head. "Her greatest fear is death."

"She doesn't seem too afraid of that. If she was she'd be more careful!" Hermione stated as she strode into the room. "Sorry professor, but every year ore things are hidden from us and more security is put into place but all that does is mess everything up."

"She's brave. You have no idea how much. But you see... Nevina knows that if she dies... it's over-"

"Same for everyone!" Ron snapped, following Hermione into the room. Irving's mind traveled to how amusing Nevina would have found their entrances.

"No... she's... immortal... if she did die... then her soul would... die too. No memories, no anything, she would cease to exist" He stated.

"I don't understand," Harry stated; you know he came in the room. It's a party, yay! Now the main character is here! "If she's immortal, how could she ever die?"

"... Ghosts... reincarnation... astral plain …heaven... hell, in some cases. Most of us have some belief that when we die our souls go somewhere. However, when Nevina dies... her mind, her soul, her essence... are gone..."

"...You mean like being reborn?... Or having a second life when you can't remember the first?" Ron offered.

"No, good scenario is she wakes up in a world of dark nothingness, but she can think. She's alone, but her ideas, ambitions and personality, are still there. Better case scenario, Takai takes that soul and puts it in a pet or something as he'd never put it back into a human. Anyway... that's the best case scenario. But that's life as a pet..."

"So if she did die... she looses everything?" Harry asked.

"Yes, that is why I told her they couldn't hurt her as long as she had a soul. I always told her I'd find a place for her soul if she ever died. Of, if she died then I'd take her away from the lab and burry her so she would have some piece, even if it was inside a decaying corpse. However, she saw through my lie as she got older. But why should she care? She's an angel, and angel's can't die."

"Are you serious that she is immortal?" Hermione asked with a skeptical look on her face.

"Have you killed an angel? I'm as serious as there are clouds in the sky. I helped make her that way."

"Her spell-ashes to ashes- I've never heard of something like that before," Dumbledore stated, feeling it was best to keep the conversation flowing away from the lab and Kira.

"That's because it's special," Irving explained. "The Volucris used them all the time. They are a way of channeling your spells... a way of making it more... personal."

"You mean stronger?"

"Yes," Irving looked at the three teens, at Dumbledore, and then at Minerva and Remus. He laughed, "She's not as strong as she acts."

"What?" Again, Minerva asked. "That 'child' seemed pretty vicious to me."

"Nevina? She's kitten, a lot of hiss, but tinny little claws," Irving stated, playing towards her nickname at the restaurant she worked at.

"I don't get it," Hermione stated.

"What spells did she use?"

"Fire, an explosion, levitation, invisibility-" Hermione recalled.

"The explosion was a prank that Kaida and her made," Irving informed her. "She floats naturally and she can't turn invisible, she's just really good at going unnoticed. As for the fire spell, you probably scared her."

"Scared her!" Hermione and Minerva chorused.

"Yes- That fire can be easily put out; she just uses it as a shield... She can make it powerful, it does react to her emotions, but there are consequences to using such a powerful spell. She'd have been hurt and you would have caught her, that wouldn't have helped her," he turned around and looked at them all. "You seem to believe she's a psychotic animal that has escaped its cage."

"That's what it sounds like," Minerva admitted.

"Ah ha! So she was right," Irving smiled to himself.

"What?"

"What solution do you want? Return her to the cage? Lock her in a new one? That won't work. You'd h-"

"Have to kill her, we know," Harry stated, glumly.

"So what are you going to do?" Irving asked. He was met by silence. There really was nothing else to do. She refused to be captured but they did not want to kill her exactly.

"That's what I thought," Irving turned around and headed out of the castle. He didn't look back and his pace made it obvious that he didn't want help getting a ride.

He paused as he opened one of the double doors to the castle, then shook his head and strode out. The wind blew sharply around him so he pulled his coat up and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The soft crunch of the snow and the light whistle of the wind was the only sound as the snow protested his weight upon it. Irving breathed in the cold air as he walked along an invisible path that would lead him to the main gate. He knew that back in the castle there was a discussion going on. What to do with the ANGEL. They thought of her as... he shook his head. The gate opened as he approached and without even a glance back at the castle, he stepped out. He walked a few paces and looked out.

The blinding white show was everywhere around him and the trees and plants poked through the white powder as beacons of hope that life still existed in this frozen world of ice. Then he saw exactly what he'd expected. About fifteen feet in front of him was a spot of black against the snow. Hidden from view, almost, except he'd known it would be there so he knew where to look. She stood, unmoving, waiting for him. They knew each other too well.

She was dressed in all black, another outfit Madison had made. The gloves went up just above her elbows and her trench coat's sleeves stopped an inch before the gloves. The trench split and revealed a black skirt and boots that stopped an inch before the skirt. Her hair was billowed in the wind, a black bow acting as a head band. Her arms were crossed and her eyes stared back at him with no emotion.

"Hello, Nevina," Irving greeted the dangerous, psychotic weapon. "I expected you to show up a few minutes ago, or wasn't it you who opened the gate?"

Nevina pushed herself away from the rock she was leaning against. "Tell me the truth..."

"And I'll tell you a lie," Irving responded and stared down at her. "Show me the truth..."

"All you'll see is the lie," Nevina met his gaze.

"Accept the truth."

"And you'll enter the nightmare."

"With nothing but your own sanity, which you can lose. The only way through is to accept what you truly know, and use that to drive away the fear."

"But you have to be able to adapt, for what you 'know' can be wrong."

A silence erupted between them as the familiar saying ended. Then Irving looked down at her and shook his head. "You were right."

"I know. What did you tell them?" Nevina answered robotically.

Irving stared down at the ground and then approached the psychotic killer. "The truth, Nevina. I told them the truth. I can't let them call you a demon."

"Why not? It is what I was made to be-"

"But it is not true." He stared at her, knowing he was venturing onto territory they had wordlessly agreed never to speak of again. Nevina shook her head.

"...You came willingly in order to find a solution. What did you get?"

"...You were right," Irving repeated. "I can't stop you... all I can say is… be careful."

"If all goes according to plan, then I won't have to."

"Right now you have them convinced that you are a psychotic killer, thirsty for blood."

"And you would prove otherwise?"

"They refuse to believe anything that I tell them."

"That is for the best," Nevina intoned as she turned and trailing off. "I'm going to visit the rest. I shall see you later tonight."

"Nevina!" Irving called after her.

She stopped and looked back at him. "Relax. They couldn't catch me if they tried."

"You're forgetting-"

"That was a fluke. I'll be ready next time."


	6. Lost

Eve: Hey! This is a really short chapter, and rushed as I'm thinking of quitting. If you like it, say so please. Anyway, things will move pretty fast, but I'm sure the ride will be enjoyable.

--

Crawling through this world as disease flows through my veins  
I look into myself, but my own heart has been changed  
I can't go on like this  
I loathe all I've become  
Lost in a dying world I reach for something more  
I have grown so weary of this lie I live

---

Harry Potter tossed and turned in his sleep. His mind was bombarded with thoughts that he could not chase away. Who was this Nevina? The perfect assassin that had snapped her leash and mind? What did she want? That wasn't all that bothered him. "They never told you? They never told you about her? Never said a word about how they left her to die all alone?" Who was _she_? He had tried to ask many times, only to receive a lecture about how it was wrong for him to have snuck in to talk to her. It doesn't matter anyway, they would tell him after the lecture. She is insane. Probably has no idea who _she_ even is.

Harry pulled his blanket over his head and the next time he opened his eyes he was in a strange new place. He could see a wall of stone and sighed sadly, his eyes falling in some desperation he was trying to ignore. It was impossible though. The silence carried it in and the darkness kept it there. His head was heavy and his gaze dropped again so he was staring at his… breasts? Huh! A low growl brought his gaze to the left where a frightening white wolf was visible. Though it was about the size of a pony!

"Corento, Rial," Harry recognized the voice that escaped his throat as Nevina's. "Es ee fem yavid yed oh ay?"

The wolf nodded and Nevina pat its head. It appeared she was sitting in a large, regal chair in a dark lair of some sort. She spoke in a language Harry did not recognize, though the wolf seemed to understand it. He caught only two words _kill,_ and _Harry._ Though as she said it something strange happened. He felt a sharp pain, a burning, and a tearing! He felt like he was being torn apart yet no cry of pain escaped his lips. Instead he… Nevina… placed her hand upon her chest, over her heart and sighed. She drifted off to sleep, and Harry woke up. He sat up in bed and clutched his scar as it burned painfully. Something that only happened when Voldemort was emotional. Some side-effect of grandly annoying possibilities. He glanced over at his watch. It was almost morning and he would have to face Umbridge again in a few hours. She was not happy with him. Surprise, surprise.

It seemed that unreasonable troll of a woman had a grudge against dear Harry. She delivered ridicule every time she saw him and it was becoming so bad that once even Snape had called her away. Not that he did not get in his shots every now and then as Harry could not reply if he ever wanted the archives back. They had sent for more, but Snape had been ready and snatched them up rather gleefully. It was the worst year of Harry's life. He dressed and entered the common room to warm up by the fire and await dawn.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as she entered through the portrait of the fat lady. Harry jumped and stared over at her in alarm, "Good, you're up! Look at this!" She sat at a table and took out a book. "It was in the career section!" she explained.

Harry looked at the book. It was a regal looking thing with rich brown leather, brass corners and writing that glistened in the light. It was simply called: Zagan Academy. Hermione yanked the book open and read a description of what attending the Zagan Academy was like. The students sounded impressive and almost awe inspiring. Hermione read on until she reached the end of the chapter about what a rider was and did.

"Why haven't we heard about these people? They sound amazing," gaped Harry, reading about what students had to do to move up in levels. "They could have defeated Voldemort."

"They're a neutral group," Hermione explained, havign already read the entire book. "They can only do what the ministry allows and that they are hired to do. Anyway, these are the people from that article."

Harry nodded, he could not tear is eyes away from the book. To get in you had to get marks even Hermione would have trouble getting, and be physically fit, stable of mind, and strong of spirit. They accepted students from all over the world, provided they cold pass the test. "So this is a rider," he marveled. "Sounds like the only ones who could face off with Nevina."

They had recently seen a picture of Nevina. She was standing near one of the Death Eaters' latest public stunt. Though they only noticed as they had been staring at it for hours, and even then she looked like trick of light. A ghost, something that looked read, but wasn't. A phantom that had lost its mind.

--

"She was standing in the back," Snape reported with half-lidded eyes and the usual drawl. "No one even seemed to notice she was there."

Albus nodded. Nevina was always nearby when the Death Eaters made a move, and she was often seen leaving the meeting houses though no one noticed her. Snape had only recently become aware and that was only after a floor board creaked and he realized she had been standing next to him through the entire hour long meeting. He had tried to follow her afterwards but she'd slipped away.

"She must suspect you," Remus stated, though his tone had continued to be mildly depressed ever since speaking to Irving. "Otherwise she would not have chosen a different spot."

"Well, we can't try to nab her at the school again," Tonks reported with a sigh. "I think she has caught on to me as well. That and Irving has a sharp eye for strangers and keeps making me leave."

"Can't use Fawkeys either," Kingsley recalled, remembering how the last time Albus has sent the phoenix to find the girl it had somehow been held hostage and Albus received a letter from Nevina. It stated quite simply that she would only let it go if she was promised that it would not follow her as it was a nuisance. Albus agreed and awoke to find the unconscious phoenix on the steps to his office.

He knew it was Nevina telling him she could come and go as she wanted and was not afraid of him. They had run out of plans. The Christmas break was approaching and Umbridge had made a rule that everyone was to go home. She wanted to go and if she went, so did they. The rule had been extended to LunarEclipse as well. The OotP had to find a way to find out where Nevina would go. Tonks had already reported that Nevina and Irving did not act as though they lived together. There was an uncomfortable void between them. It was the mistrust Irving spoke of. Yet there was something beyond what he said.

Yes- he had left her to die but that wasn't all. That was disloyalty, Nevina acted as though she had been betrayed. There was a story there that Irving was not telling. Sirius looked up and sighed. "We're stuck."

"When all else fails you bring out the big guns," Moody grunted, though he did not elaborate any plan.

Dumbledore, however, had one final trick up his sleeve. Though it was desperate and he was not even sure how it could be accomplished. "So we hire a rider."

Sirius spit out his drink all over Snape, having been looking for an excuse to do so since the meeting started and he realized he was sitting close enough to do it. "What!"

"None of them would listen," Kingsley argued as Severus snarled at Sirius and was only stopped from attacking him by the two men on either side that were holding him back. "The ministry's got their budget by the balls and I doubt the ministry would allow this."

"Besides, we'd have to go directly to Clef," Remus added. "He is the only one who knows about the ANGEL program and he can't help as he has a school to run."

"I was not intending to ask Clef to aid us himself," Dumbledore confirmed lightly. "Just contact someone."

"Like who?" Sirius asked, ignoring Severus.

"Someone we lost," Dumbledore replied, looking to Remus. "I do think it is time we made contact with him again."

--

Eve: Happy, Cota fan club? He's coming back!


	7. Illusion

Eve: Heya! It's my birthday and I'm trying to update all my stories It's hard! But I hope you all appreciate it

**"I Am An Illusion"**  
_By: Rob Thomas._

Take this confusion  
Runnin' round my head  
Take back my unkind words  
Lay that weight on me instead  
I'm the place where everything turns sour  
Where you gonna run to now

Wrong step  
We got off track  
We need someone to help us get back now  
Worn thin  
Awful state I was in  
I believe I was losing me now I'm found  
I am found

But I'm not real anymore  
I am an illusion  
But I'm not real anymore  
I am an illusion

I am the damage  
I am the relief  
Sometimes I'm people  
I never hoped that I would be  
If I take in whatever they turn out  
What's that gonna make me now  
Don't you understand

I'm not real anymore  
I am an illusion  
Hell I'm not real anymore  
I am an illusion.

Wrong step  
We got off track  
We need someone to help us get back now  
Worn thin  
Awful state I was in  
I believe they were fooling me  
Now I'm down  
I am down

But I'm not real anymore  
I am an illusion

Hell, I'm not real anymore  
I am an illusion

Hell, I'm not real anymore!  
I am an illusion!

--

Cota Lionsaber sat upon his horse and stared silently across the endless field of snow. His cloak billowed around him as the icy wind blew fiercely against his back. His mission was done, not that he found that to be very important. The frozen tundra did not have another soul for miles, save the group of bandits he had already dealt with. They were now marching back towards the settlement in thick binds. The deal was easy enough. He captured them and tied their hands behind their backs, then left. They could start marching towards a town and be thrown in jail, or die. He did not care either way.

With the slightest kick, Patrick charged across the frozen tundra with brilliant speed. The stallion charged through the icy wind and freezing sludge, ever thankful of the thermos boots his owner had equipped him with. That had been a while ago and they were worn and frayed, but in the unforgiving desert of ice every little bit helped. The journey was long, but over the years he had become strong enough to race through the deep snow without tiring. A talent that helped every day as Cota had a small shack in the middle of nowhere that he called home… no, actually he called it 'the shack', home did not exist.

The wind no longer stung, the light no longer shone, the fire no longer warmed, and the hunger could no longer be fed. He was shrouded in a blanket of pain and darkness, like the snow that never melted from his heart or his clothing. As he arrived, Cota saw smoke in the chimney and became suspicious. He dismounted and unsaddles Patrick. He held the saddle with one arm and took the bridle off, leaving only the boots and the blanket on the horse. He headed towards the shack and left Patrick to head for the stable or forage around for food- a scarce commodity. Attaching his sword and sheath to his belt, Cota deposited the saddle and bridle on a chair near the door to the shack and pondered what was on fire inside.

As he entered, though, he noticed the broken fireplace he'd never cared to fix was working and the beaten down room seemed to have been touched up. The curtains, if you could call them that, were thrown open allowing light into the moldy old shack and the leaky roof was patched; the bare floor decorated only with a cot and an old table was now swept and there was a rug laying over it. Upon that rug there was a large desk where the table had been, and a chair in the front near the fireplace, but the most notable addition was the man sitting in the chair.

"Ah, there you are," Master Clef greeted, returning the bow Cota greeted him with. "Come in come in, you're letting the cold in."

Clef watched patiently as Cota pushed the door shut, then eased his foot back to secure the door as it seemed to have problems locking unless he forced it. When the door was securely shut, or at least not threatening to fly open, Clef announced why he was there.

"I have a new mission for you," he stated abruptly. "…In England."

Cota stood at attention in front of the desk. He no longer maintained the eager look of one listening to every word, such as he had found so easy to do when he was younger. His features were expressionless, neutral, and cold. He listened to the assignment without attachment. His mind was a computer and the mission was ones and zeros; nothing else. Clef had not expected any different. Not from Cota. He remembered the eager teenager, running around the academy in a students' uniform, flashing a smile to everyone he passed. The student uniform was long gone, as was the graduate rider uniform. He now wore the attire of a full fledged Zagan Knight. Though it looked more like an assassin's costume, and his actions were done entirely as a mercenary, never as a person.

"Here is the order," Clef took the contract from his desk and handed it to Cota. "They look forward to seeing you."

Accepting the paper, Cota scanned it and found problem after problem. They were asking for aid, but there was no specific task. It simply said they needed someone to come. He read through it again and caught a line he did not like. _Knight is to serve until the Order of the Phoenix completes their goal and/or releases him. _He held out the order for Clef to take it. Surely this was not a real contract; no one hired a knight indefinitely. Clef shook his head.

"It's real," he stated.

Cota looked again to the contract. No details, no time period, and the pay the academy was getting for it was one worthy of a **student**! He was an important knight; all his cases had paid thousands and were all professional. Surely he could be making more money for the academy by working on a higher priority case. He set the paper down and waited to hear the real reason he was being visited. No one had come in years and the only contact he got were requests, payment deliveries, and the words of the criminals he arrested. Unless of course he counted all the monsters and demons he had battled, he had not engaged a living soul in… he could not even remember how long.

Clef shook his head again. "That's all I have for you and no, you can't turn it down. I know it shall be more social that the work you receive out here, but I think you have done all there is to do here."

Cota shifted his weight, something James would have killed him for. He was arguing the mission without verbally battling it. He did not want to return to England, he had come to the islands off Canada to be away from people. The only ones around were the Inuit. He had come across their igloos- common storage units- every now and then and had seen their dog sleds. They called him a ghost and left him alone. He respected them greatly for it. Clef picked the letter off the desk and grabbed Cota's hand, making the two meet.

"Lad, you're barely surviving out here," Clef began in a matter-of-fact tone. You have a bank account full of money and yet you live where it does you no good. My compliments to the shack, but it's time to leave. No arguing. The academy put too much time into training you to have you die out here. When's the last time you ate? That horse is healthier than you and he looks to be eating a bush."

Cota made no reaction; he did not need to as Clef took out a barley block from a pocket in his coat, though to Cota he offered a ship ticket.

"Can't apperate with a horse," Clef stated, driving in the point that this was not a request. "Boat leaves later tonight, you'll need to leave in an hour to catch it. Let your horse eat and then leave. He'll be well taken care of on the boat and… well I'd tell you to bring food but…" he gestured at the bare walls and empty cabinets. "You'll be alright for a few days." Truth was that Clef had worried about Cota ever since that night, but the boy simply was not to be reasoned with. He was almost robotic and sometimes blunt was all that got through.

If Clef expressed worry, Cota would ignore him. He felt he was nothing worth caring about, but if he was the academy's **property** then he had an obligation to follow the orders. He was intelligent enough to know he was not property, but the reminder of his responsibility to the academy would increase the odds of him complying. Without another word, Clef headed out the door and was gone.

Cota followed a few moments later and tossed the block to Patrick, figuring the horse could use the energy. He then headed back inside to pack what little he had, and then headed towards the east harbor. It was night by the time, Cota found himself on a boat headed for London. Patrick was well tended to and Cota was left to hope for a small meal a day as the ship usually only transported animals and only had food for the crew. It was not unusual for a rider to take such transport as their horses were their most prized possessions and a transport not suited for them simply would not do. Cota looked to the contract again. He had spent so many years away, taking the jobs no one wanted. They probably thought the time away would have fixed him. Truth was he was not proud of certain things he had done since that night.

He was not proud of anything really. He had not spoken to his friends in years and had been awful to them. It was as if nothing mattered anymore and he was only breathing because he couldn't seem to stop. He was walking around because his feet still moved and his heart kept beating, no matter how broken it was. He had become the thing James hated; a rider with no passion for the job, no spirit, no people skills, no personality at all. He hated himself for it, but just could not seem to recover.

The academy taught mental stability, but they could never seem to tell anyone how to pick up the pieces of their broken souls and put them together again. Cota knew the pieces existed, but there were so many missing. Some of them were so damaged they were barely recognizable. Now he had to face the people he had left behind. He figured they would be angry with him, or perhaps weird and distant. 'They'll hate what I've become,' he thought. Then it truly struck him how bad he felt about going back. His stomach churned and his heart felt like it was being crushed. He was used to that feeling, but now it nearly drove him to tears.

His psychiatrist would have wanted that. Dr. Knoweverything would have enjoyed the sign of emotion. What a useless thing. Cota folded the contract and put it inside the breast pocket of his cloak. With a deep breath he forced out the anxiety as he exhaled. Every trace of emotion vanished, replaced by the cold, placid look he had adapted over the years. Without another glance at his surroundings, Cota turned to go and find a place to sleep.

-

The ship moored in the harbor and the crew began unloading the cargo. Albus stood waiting with a pleasant smile. He was almost sure he had gotten the wrong boat as Cota had not ran to meet him. That was until he saw the men leading a fiery stallion out of the cargo hold. There was a golden four-leafed clover on his forehead that Albus recognized immediately. The steed stretched and fought his handler. He reared and let out a loud cry, but the moment the man released the lead he was still and walked forward at his own pace. There was dominance in his stride, a power and strength to it at well. The horse flicked its tail as if to tell the crew to piss off.

Then there came a sound Albus recognized. A sort of whistle that sounded like something an animal would make. Patrick turned and headed for the caller and Dumbledore's gaze followed. Onto the ramp the rider stepped and Dumbledore could not suppress a gasp. That… that wasn't Cota… was it? No- no it couldn't be him; and yet it was. He seemed like a phantom, a ghost… there was something terribly wrong about the way he moved and the way he traveled through the crowd. For a moment Dumbledore actually felt like turning and withdrawing his contract, and even pretending he had never even came. He thought Cota had looked tortured that terrible night fourteen years ago, but to look upon him now one would assume that had merely been the tip of the iceberg.

Resisting the almost overwhelming urge to flee, Albus stood his ground worked up the strength to approach the rider. Cota had turned to tighten the sheath on Patrick's saddle; he was giving Dumbledore the chance to run.

"Ah, young Mr. Lionsaber," Albus greeted warmly, having to prepare the words before they would come out as pleasantly as he wanted them to. "Thank you so much for coming on such short notice."

The pleasantry was not returned as Cota simply pulled the mission statement from his cloak and held it out. He was responding to orders. Albus nodded and found the contract that Master Clef had given him. He handed it to Cota, who read it as if he did not trust Albus, though when he was finished he nodded and bowed in a sign of servitude. Dumbledore merely smiled and continued as if he'd been greeted with a warm handshake and the famous smile he remembered so well.

"It's good to see you again," he beamed. "If you'll follow me I can take you to the meeting house. The school was closed for Christmas break, so sadly it shall be unavailable to us, but I am sure we can find a place for Patrick."

Cota only nodded and followed. He was an illusion. A trick of the light that resembled the memory of someone he had been once, though it did not mimic that person very well.

"I'll introduce you to the new members," Albus continued. Being a very tall man he had height going for him, helping him feel less threatened by the ghostly reminder of a soul that once was. "Then there are the kids you'll be running into, though Harry is not with us at the moment." He waited for a reaction and got none so he simply continued. "I suppose he is having fun with his aunt and uncle, at least I would if I was ignorant."

--

Indeed Harry was NOT having fun. He sat in the back seat of the Dursley car with his whale sized cousin sitting next to him and taking up three-fourths of the back seat. Dudley was slobbering over a nonfat yogurt pop and making grotesque slurping noises that churned Harry's stomach.

"Is my likle Duddeykins enjoying his popsicle?" Aunt Petunia asked, turning her crane like neck around to look at her fat tub of lard.

"Don't you mean Big D?" Harry muttered, receiving a piercing stare from Dudley. He was itching for a fight. Anything to end this nightmare.

"It doesn't taste right!" Dudley squealed, reminding Harry of a young pig.

Aunt Petunia gave Dudley a sympathetic smile and handed over her own popsicle- not needing it as it was WINTER. Dudley snatched it up, still glaring at his mother. He ate both pops… well, if you could call it eating; truth was he murdered both popsicles and their blood covered his bloated face. Harry stared out the window; the car in front of them was going terribly slow. Uncle Vernon began ramming his fist against the horn.

"If you don't know how to drive, get off the road. Idiot!" He shouted, sending spit up onto the windshield. Aunt Petunia quickly wiped the spit away with the napkin she had been trying to use to clean Dudley's face.

"How else are they supposed to learn to drive, other then being on the road?" Harry mumbled, watching the people on the street and wishing he could join them out there.

"What'd you say!" Uncle Vernon barked. Harry remained silent, knowing an answer could mean his death. Uncle Vernon grunted and went back to pounding on the horn.

"I'm still hungry!" Dudley whined, kicking his mother's seat.

"Yes, let's try and find some food," Aunt Petunia chirped. Harry smiled, he'd had an excellent breakfast of brownies, sent by Sirius, pot-roast sandwiches, compliments of Mrs.Weasley, and some butterbeer, given to him by Remus. The Dursely's had eaten grapefruit again.

"Let's go to that Japanese restaurant," Petunia nodded her head. She treasured hearing the gossip there; it was a real fancy restaurant and she loved that the waiters and waitresses dressed up. She found it extremely interesting and Vernon liked annoying the staff. Dudley pitched in on the annoying the staff. Making sure he got the seat closest to the front of the table. Petunia exclaimed that Dudley felt he was a 'big man' and therefore deserved the best seat. Harry, however, knew Dudley's habit of trying to see under the waitresses skirts. He was becoming a pig in more ways then Harry could count.

Vernon jerked the wheel and the car turned down a back alley. The car bounced along the cobblestone alley and then turned onto the main road. Vernon slammed his foot against the pedal and the car rocketed down the street. They arrived at the restaurant in a matter of fifteen minutes with Dudley complaining the whole way. Harry had never been allowed to go with them before to the restaurant. He figured they'd make him wait in the car so he prepared himself for the long, boring, wait. Then another thought crossed his mind.

"I don't think I've ever had Japanese food before," Harry uttered, still staring out the window.

"Okay, you're an uncultured swine, so?" Vernon sneered, sending Dudley into a fit of laughter. Harry was about to compliment Vernon's use of a word that big, but decided to continue his first approach.

"I'm just saying that I'll have to tell Sirius all about it," Harry answered blatantly.

There it was. The look. Uncle Vernon's look of hate, disgust, terror, and annoyance. Petunia was the first to speak, and she did so without thinking. "There'll be nothing to tell him," she stated, craning her neck around to give Harry a stuck up glare. "You aren't going to be eating with us."

"Oh," Harry replied in mock sadness. "Then I'll tell him I _almost_ tried Japanese food."

The vein in Vernon's neck was pulsing, should he call Harry's bluff? Was it a bluff? He'd never seen this godfather, this Sirius. However, Vernon was not about to have a homicidal maniac walking down the street towards his house for a visit. He already knew that forbidding Harry to write to his God father would probably end in a confrontation with the man, wondering why he had not heard anything from Harry.

"What she meant," he growled, his face increasingly purple. "Is that you're going to sit at your own table. We don't want to be bothered by the likes of you," he added quickly.

Harry kept in a grin and stared at the street name as Vernon turned the car into the lot. 'Willowvein' Harry read the street address like a happy song. A singsong lyric that told of his control over the Dursleys and how he got to finally eat at the restaurant they always talked about. Vernon walked in the door, opening it for Petunia and Dudley, yet nearly knocking it into Harry. The concierge seated them at a booth and told them that a waitress would be with them shortly. He then led Harry across the restaurant and seated him at a table, confused by the seating arrangement, yet trying to please his customers. Harry grinned and looked over the menu.

"Are you working tonight, too?" Harry heard a male voice behind him ask someone.

"Yes," A female voice replied, dull and emotionless.

"Kiten, you're gonna work yourself to death," the male voice stated.

Harry looked over at menu, yet the name stuck in his head. Kiten? Key-ten? Harry shook his head; it was probably a Japanese name. All the servers had Japanese names, even when he knew they weren't Japanese. He had seen a guy with red hair and freckles walk by with a name tag that read: Kaouen.

"You're getting the number seven," Uncle Vernon barked. Harry jumped, he hadn't realized that the walrus was standing beside him.

"O-okay" Harry stuttered, heart still pounding in his chest. Uncle Vernon glared at him and then stalked away. Harry watched him go, almost smiling as a thought came to him. 'I'm all the way over here, you're all the way over there,' He liked that thought. Dudley tapped his fat fingers against the table and his eyes darted around for a waitress. The waitress, however, was behind the curtain that was behind Harry. Petunia was leaning back, her spine straight and her neck was back a few notches as she listened to the conversation going on in the booth behind them. Vernon reseated himself and picked up his menu. 'Or course' Harry thought. 'You looked for the cheapest thing, and forgot to find something for yourself.' Harry put down his menu and simply relaxed as a waiter brought him a glass of water. Harry drank the lemon water and wished Ron was there so he would have someone to talk to. He even would have liked Hermione to be there... maybe even Neville. Dudley groaned loudly and slapped down his menu as loudly as possible.

"You got table five, Kiten," the male voice sighed. "Watch out, brat alert." Harry heard light footsteps and someone came out. Another server came out and asked Harry for his order.

"Konichiwa. Have you decided what you would like?" She asked, bowing to him.

Harry looked over at his server, she was wearing a short, kimono style outfit. However, the skirt didn't even reach her knees, no wonder Dudley liked the restaurant. Yet everything else was kimono style, the sleeves, the way that the top was one side folded over the other, diagonally. Harry blinked and brought his attention back again.

"Number seven," He muttered.

"Ah, wonderful selection," She nodded her head and smiled. "Might I ask what you wish to drink?"

"Er…" Harry looked at the menu. There was a list of Japanese teas and different drinks. He wasn't sure what they were. "I, er, I don't know."

"That's okay. May I offer a suggestion?"

"Sure."

"For a number seven, I recommend you try this drink," she told him, tapping the drink. "It comes with two free candies." She added, seeming to know that he had to order on the cheap side, yet wanted to make this a good experience.

"Okay," Harry nodded with a smile.

"I'll be right back with your order" The girl nodded her head, as if bowing, and trotted off back behind the curtain. Harry looked back over at the Dursley table. Their waitress had silver-white hair that was loosely put up in two sticks; her hair was long and some of it was hanging down so Harry couldn't see her face. Her hair was beautiful, like a veela only... Harry shook his head. This was Muggle land, no veela here. He sighed, wishing he was back at Hogwarts, and then looked back over at the table. The girl wrote down their order and turned to leave, Dudley 'dropped' his chopstick on the ground in front of her.

"Oh, here," the male voice returned and Harry saw it belonged to a man of about thirty-six years. He picked up the chop stick. "Kiten, why don't you bring him a new one."

The girl nodded and took the chopstick, hurrying off back to the curtain. The male flashed a smile at the Dursleys and then went to another table. Harry lowered his head and put up his menu, suppressing a laugh as the waitress walked by him. He had seen Dudley shut down, and it felt good.

"Kitten! Kitten I want something else!" Dudley yelled, his voice sounding more and more like an infant pig with each yell.

"I hate pigs," came a soft voice from beyond the curtain. Harry chuckled and the waitress emerged again.

"I'm assuming you mean me," she stated, her voice softer then her words.

"Yeah, kitten, umm... I'd like a... err... I want... a side of..." Dudley mumbled, licking his pudgy lips as he tried to think. "Of..."

'Everything?' Harry thought.

"Of... I want a number twelve," Dudley spat out, Kiten nodded and wrote it down. She was smaller then any of the other waitresses and had a gentle way of moving, there wasn't any waste of movement at all. Kiten turned around, staying just out of reach, and Dudley quickly called her back, snapping his pudgy fingers. He could not think of a reason and admitting that he was trying to see more skin seemed inappropriate even for is mind.

"What kind of a name is Kitten anyway?" Petunia asked, glaring at the girl and pursing her lips. "It's not cute, if that's what you think. Makes you seem like a tramp."

"My name isn't Kitten, it's pronounced Key-ten, it's a nickname," Kiten stated, her voice was patient, but Harry knew she wanted to disappear... or hit Dudley.

"What is your real name, kitten?" Dudley asked, eyeing the teriyaki chicken that was being carried past him.

'Hit him! Hit him!' Harry mentally cheered. 'Please! Hit him and I die happy!'

Kiten paused, staring at Dudley with hidden disgust. "I'll go get your order, if you need anything you can address me by my _correct_ nickname," she backed away and retreated out to another table.

Harry closed his eyes, letting the weight of the break wash over him. Why had he come back? He should have stayed at the school. Yet, the Dursley's wanted him to be miserable, so they 'allowed' him to come. And for what? Nothing! No presents, no food, no friends, no Sirius, no anything. Harry had waited for them for over three hours. Then they finally show up, yell at him for being asleep when they got there and say that the new headmaster told them to pick him up.

Vernon grunted loudly and Petunia made a loud comment about 'that rude little tramp.' Harry's thoughts were disturbed as his server set down his plate. He thanked her and she nod/bowed. He looked out at his food, it was all small portions of fancily decorated tidbits. Everything looked good and very oriental, yet soft... the colors were tranquil somehow. Harry decided against the chopsticks and used a fork to eat. Everything was delicious and seemed to melt away in his mouth. He grinned and noticed that Dudley was staring at him with hungry eyes. Harry, deciding to be Mike, (A.N. whoops, immature, I meant 'to be immature') stuck his tongue out and continued eating. After their meal Harry sat back and enjoyed the atmosphere, there were a few people, but not many as lunch passed.

The restaurant took on a bit more of a casual sense and Harry noticed that they had different meals for different times of the day. Casual breakfast, fancy lunch, casual lunch (two o'clock) then at five thirty they opened the bar, had tea ceremonies, then a fancy dinner, and then they closed at ten. Harry noticed that the Dursley's had already finished their meal a long time ago, wolfing it down like starving cattle. Kiten returned, hesitantly, and grabbed up the empty dished from the table. She managed to get them all rather quickly, spin around, and try for a dash back to the kitchen. Harry had to once again hide behind his menu as he was having a hard time containing his mood. He hated where he was, but was relieved to be away from Umbridge.

Ron and Hermione had told him to make the best of it and send them word from the 'outside world.' Dudley and Vernon were talking and Petunia was whipping her head around every which way to ease-drop as much as possible. After a few minutes Vernon got up and glared at Harry that it was time to go. Harry jumped to his feet and rammed his hands into his pockets, he'd gotten good service, but what could he leave for a tip? Shrugging, he put down some silver sickles and hoped Vernon took no notice; then ran to catch up with the Dursleys. They were at the front counter, paying. Kiten was sitting on a stool and Dudley was trying to lift up one of the server's skirts. She raised her hand to slap him and Vernon yelled at her. She turned, flicking her hair, and stormed off.

Kiten remained motionless. Harry walked out behind Vernon, he wanted to apologize to Kiten for Dudley, but Vernon had already pushed him out of sight. His server walked over to her with Harry's tip. Harry felt his stomach drop as he realized how stupid it was. However, Kiten took them and exchanged them for the tip she had gotten. 'That's strange.' Harry thought. They got in the car and Harry looked out the window, the door to the restaurant was still open and Kiten turned towards it... Harry's mouth flew open and his eyes grew extremely wide. It was her! The girl, the one that they thought they'd never find again! Nevina! And he now knew where she worked. The big amethyst eyes, platinum hair, how hadn't he noticed it before! Harry was about to jump out of the car when Uncle Vernon turned out of the driveway and began speeding towards home.


	8. Discovery

After dinner, Harry casually mentioned Sirius wanting to meet him and, in exchange for being rid of him, Vernon had given him a lift to Willowvein. It was all a lie and to be honest Harry should have contacted the order members, but he was tired of being treated like a baby. Every year he had faced evil head-on and come out alive and whenever people tried to protect him things went horribly wrong. Harry pulled on his invisibility cloak and watched as the restaurant's lights flickered off and the employees evacuated. They each had different goodbyes and some asked if anyone wanted to go do something. Yet, Nevina walked past them and returned only the basic of courtesies.

Harry did held his breath as she walked past him and pulled a long coat up around her shoulders. He was surprised to see how exhausted she looked, though the good news was that she did not seem to be very alert. Harry followed as quickly as he dared and kept his eyes on her the entire time. Gradually the neighborhoods began to look demarcated from normal society. There were bars on the windows, dogs chained in the yards and every eye that watched them pass looked paranoid. Nevina stopped in front of a small, pastel blue house with white trim and a patched-up roof. The fence surrounding it was spray painted white and there looked to be something of a garden inside; though not many people would have called it that. Nevina unlocked the gate and Harry rushed through as Nevina paused to yawn. She shut the gate and locked it again before turning towards the front door.

There were about three no trespassing signs that Harry saw on his way in, one on the gate, one posted in the yard, and one in the window. Nevina unlocked the door and paused she looked over her shoulder and was perfectly still for a few moments before she seemed satisfied and entered. Harry pulled off the cloak as she did, he wouldn't be needing it any longer. Nevina tossed her keys into a bowl on a cabinet in the hallway, one hand reaching back to shut the door.

"So, this is where you live? I was expecting something different," Harry stated, letting himself in before she could close the door.

Nevina was on-guard and snarling at him in an instant. Her eyes locked on to him, search missiles on an enemy target. She visibly forced herself to relax and eased into a casual pose, pretending he was a guest she had let in. "Oh look, young Harry Potter," she drawled as her hand stretched slowly towards the coat she had hung up on the wall. "Come to pay me a visit."

Harry pointed his wand at her, already having his out and ready. Her gaze turned sour, but again she tried to pass it of as a simple inconvenience. She retracted her arm as casually as she could and in an indignant voice she asked,

"To what do I owe this rather hour _visit_?"

Harry did not lower his wand, something Nevina seemed highly annoyed about. "I want a few questions answered."

"You still haven't given me a valid explanation of why you followed me," Nevina replied in a growl. There was silence; then, a thunderous wave of sound erupted through the room as both Harry and Nevina began shouting out questions and becoming louder and more intense with each word. They were both avoiding answering any of the questions by shouting louder than the other.

"What do you want?" Both Harry and Nevina snapped, out of breath from arguing so hard and for so long. When they had to catch their breath, they glared at each other, making up for the silence. Harry shook his head,

"We aren't solving anything this way," he decided.

Nevina crossed to the door. "Leave! That'll solve my problem," she snarled and swung the door open.

Harry's mind raced, though he knew using magic against her while she had not attacked was a good way to get expelled and Dumbledore probably would not come to the rescue a second time. Then another thought struck him. "Sure- I'll leave, send Dumbledore an owl and see you in a few hours," He offered with a shrug. Nevina twitched slightly. Harry noticed and snatched up the opportunity. "OR!" He stared her right in the eyes, waiting for any response. She stared right back at him, as if testing his dare.

When she did not respond Harry shrugged again and headed for the door.

Nevina sighed reluctantly and made a small noise like a hurt child. "I'm listening," she growled.

Harry smiled, turned and walked farther into the house. Making an effort to stay away from the door, lest she throw him out. However, she hadn't made him leave, so she obviously didn't want him to send Dumbledore an owl. 'Probably doesn't feel like moving to a new spot in the middle of the night,' he thought. Harry knew he should have asked Ron to come with him, for all he knew she was readying the knife to stab him while he had his back turned. Then a new thought entered his mind.

If she was working for someone and that person didn't want her to kill him... her next move would be to run! Harry wanted to kick himself. He looked around the room; it was bare except for a couch, a small T.V. and a table. She probably had expected someone finding her and had moved all her stuff. Harry whirled around, not expecting so see anyone there. However, there she stood, arms crossed, not cockily, but as if she was sad. Her head was tilted downward slightly and her eyes looked upward at him and she said nothing.

"Err, well... I have a lot of questions for you," Harry started. He was unnerved by her still being there when she could so easily have run.

"Why are you following me?" Nevina asked, her voice was emotionless, yet Harry sensed a tinny bit of concern in her eyes, covered well by the deep hatred in her voice.

"I think we should both take turns answering questions," stated Harry, linking his fingers in a way he had seen Dumbledore do so many times.

"Go on," Nevina nodded, agreeing.

"Right, well... one question at a time... umm, the answers MUST be TRUE and-"

"I think we should be able to pass some questions," Nevina interrupted, eyes flashing to show she wasn't going to loose control of this situation.

"Why?" Harry asked, not completely wanting to give her that.

Nevina sneered. "Name everyone in the Order, tell me the password to the meeting house-"

"Alright, alright!" Harry waved his hands out in front of him. "We can each veto three different questions."

"Thr-?" Nevina started.

"What is that thing on your arm anyway?" Harry asked swiftly, pointing to the constant arm warmer she always wore.

"Is that your question?" Nevina slid her hand behind her back, she was not going to answer that question and it was not an important one.

"No, who are you?" Harry glanced slowly around, looking for a family portrait or anything that could clue him in on what was going on with this girl.

"Nevina. Why do you care?" Nevina shot back.

Harry side-glanced her. "...That doesn't answer my question. I want to know your name."

"That's not an answer, you're breaking the rules of the game," Nevina stated angrily.

"Well I figured we might as well be civil and get introductions out of the way," Harry replied. "Apparently we can't… maybe I should send an owl to Dumbledore, he could act as mediator."

Nevina glared in a way that proved she was not going to let that little trick work a third time. "Fine, Nevina Shinko."

"Harry Potter," Harry sat down on the sofa. "This might take a while," he stated, gesturing for her to sit. When she didn't he gave her the 'lets be civil' look and started getting up. Nevina sat, as if she was a chained animal and he held her life in his hands.

"Whose turn is it?" Nevina asked lowly.

"Mine now. Where are your parents?"

"Pass," Nevina's voice was its usual emotionless tone, yet snapped out harshly.

"Okay, whose house is this?" Harry asked.

"Mine. Why are you following me?" Nevina shot out.

"To get information. Why won't you let us read that book?" Harry retorted.

"It..." Nevina didn't know how to answer this, so she just let the words come. "It's private. Why do you need information on me?"

"Because you keep your life such a mystery. Where were you born?" Harry questioned.

"Pass," Nevina hissed.

"WHO are your parents?"

Nevina had an answer for this, she had been prepared for this question, yet she opened her mouth and nothing came out. All the months of practice, and she couldn't answer, because she knew it was a lie. "You asked me my last name, that's the same question," Nevina answered.

"Alright, why are you always at the Death Eater meetings?" it was a shot in the dark, a hope that the figure in the picture really had been her and not an illusion.

"I like to know what they are up to. Same as with your little group. Why did you come here, alone?"

"I was acting on the spur of the moment. Are you saying that you spy on the Order as well?"

Nevina smirked and stood up. "Pass," she replied hauntingly. "Now again, why come here alone?"

"Because you've had plenty of opportunities to kill me and haven't. That and nothing else seems to be working. Now, who is the girl they let die all alone?"

"… Pa-"

"You can't! You already did that three times!" Harry bellowed, realizing he had a deeper motive for coming alone. If the order came they would never let him talk to her and he needed to know. "Who was she!"

Nevina stared at him for an agonizingly long time. "They wouldn't tell you?" she shook her head. "Her name was Kira. Why do you care?"

"You brought it up," Harry replied simply, though Nevina rolled her eyes to show that was not the answer she was looking for. She wanted a real answer, but he was not prepared to giver her one until he found out for himself. "What happened to her?"

"As she was, I am now, as she is many shall be," Nevina replied chillingly. "…Does the Ministry know that Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore are hiding Sirius Black?"

With a smile, Nevina turned around and sat down on the sofa. She had turned the tables on him that easily. A few moments ago he'd felt in charge, like she was a caged leopard and he held her leash. Now, however he felt like she was a leopard and he was in her cage. Harry stood now, he meant it as a defensive move but as she smiled and leaned back he felt like a performer.

"No," he growled lowly. "Are you going to tell?"

Nevina laughed in amusement. She was not yet ready to give up her leverage. "Possibly. Listen, you live with people who enjoy making you miserable. How does it feel?" She asked, her eyes meeting his for the first time in the conversation.

"Horrible." Harry answered truthfully. "Like I'm alone and my own family wants me dead."

"Well, how would you feel if they locked you in a cage, far away from light, and hope. How would you feel if you were locked there, isolated from the whole world, while they gawked at you and called you a demon, a monster, a creation? What would you do if you were tortured and experimented on because they didn't feel you should be alive, yet would keep you alive only so they could make you die a slow, miserable death? A death where you actually find yourself wishing to die," Nevina asked, looking at him threateningly.

"You hit what I'm going through dead on," Harry stated, trying to remain fearless.

"Mentally?" Nevina mused. "Oh, I have not yet begun to explain the mental torment you would endure while in this cage. This is real. They gawk and stare, point and laugh, scowl and tease! Then leave you, all alone, dying. They will lock you up until you cannot even remember what light was like," Nevina stared off on the last sentence, and her hands were shaking. Harry looked into her eyes, and felt... fear. He could feel it. "Well, that is what happens to me if I tell you what I am. I have already put myself in danger simply by telling you this."

"So why tell me it?" Harry asked, gripping his wand tightly as he was absolutely positive that she would attack.

"You keep my secret, I'll keep yours," she stated, looking him in the eyes. She still made him feel like prey. It was a compromise, simple as that.

"But-"

"How did you get here anyway? I thought you were at Sirius's house under tight security," Nevina asked, the annoyance not hidden from her voice.

"How'd you know that?" Harry eyed her suspiciously.

"I had a dream; from your reaction I'm guessing that I'm right," Nevina's eyes lit up dangerously.

"All that secrecy and you know simply because of a dream?" Harry muttered.

"You keep my secret, I keep yours," Nevina repeated, watching as Harry caught on that she meant both secrets.

"Now, I gotta figure out how to get back," Harry sighed. He knew Vernon would not swing by and pick him up, he did not have Hedwig to send out and his broom was at the school.

"You... you mean you aren't gonna send them an owl from here?" Nevina tested.

"No. I won't tell them anything about this place," Harry shook his head, slightly enjoying the thought of keeping information from THEM instead of vice versa.

"Why not? Your friends call me evil. I'm the villain, remember?" Nevina asked, confused.

"I know that!" Harry shot back, remembering all too well how she had stabbed him. "However, you're the only person who isn't treating me like a child!" He answered before he even thought about it, a truly honest answer.

"Why should I treat you like a child?" Nevina asked, lounging on the sofa and watching him carefully.

"Everyone else is. They hide documents and stop conversations whenever I enter a room, they won't tell me anything. Dumbledore has completely changed! He used to be someone I went to for help, he was a smiling face whenever I needed one. Now! Now he's just an over protective **guard **who is avoiding me! He's turned everyone into my body guards!" Harry fumed, pacing back and forth in full rant mode.

Nevina turned and looked out the window. "They don't know what a child can do if forced into something," She stated.

"Exactly! I faced him, I saw him come back, I saved the sorcerer's stone, I rescued Sirius, I lived, I fought, me! Without their help!"

"You shouldn't be treated like a child, it's your life, and you should control it. Right?" Nevina asked simply.

"Exactly," Harry nodded. "Are you planning on killing me, 'cause I was expecting a different reaction from you, instead you seem to share the same opinion as Sirius."

"You asked me who I was working for? Well, let's just play it this way. If whoever I was working for didn't want me to let you get hurt, then if I thought of you as a child I'd have watched your every step and kept you away from anything dangerous. If I thought you were strong enough to handle it, I'd let you get yourself into trouble, but be there if you got in over your head."

"...T-thanks?" Harry muttered, bewildered and not sure how to react. "Why, why are you being so nice to me. I forced my way into your house and you're being nice to me?"

"This is my home. I am not on the battle field, nor am I at school. You are a visitor in my home, and shall be treated as such," Nevina replied, though her eyes told him not to press his luck.

"...Who lives with you?" Harry asked, his mind suddenly asking the question of how this sixteen year old afforded a house.

"Nemo," Nevina answered without skipping a beat. She stood and began pacing around.

"I should get back before they send out a search party-" Harry stopped, how was he going to get back? They needed the tight security; he couldn't just waltz right up and into the front door. He groaned and heard a lock click. Nevina had continued her walking around and didn't even seem to notice that her hands checked the locks. 'She's the villain' Harry thought, yet every villain he had known or read about was in some fortress and welcomed the hero, luring the good guys to their death. Or so was the plan.

Nevina...well she had ten locks on her door, an extremely thick window and seemed to have formed an unconscious habit of checking the locks. She walked back and her eyes went again to the window. Nevina, like him, was a teenager and could handle herself. He'd come, faced his enemy, got a few questions answered, and was now standing two feet away from a threat.

"How do I get back? If I'm seen or followed then I've ruined everything." Harry groaned, not liking life at the moment.

"No one sees anything after midnight, no one looks out," Nevina shrugged. "Go then."

"Why not?"

"It gets a bit shady. These are all ex-rich people who used to think the world was perfect. They loose their money and come here, surprised and thinking this is a rough spot in their lives," Nevina shook her head and Harry found himself almost laughing. He thought about Dudley, who would have thought this to be a really bad neighbor hood and probably would have hid under his bed. Yet back at Private Drive, he was Big D: The fearless. Still, you throw one Dementor at him and he crumbles like a dried out leaf.

Harry paused and turned his back on Nevina. He had gotten a letter from the Order saying they wanted to get him but were not sure how. He sure enough could not walk all the way there. The only thing to do was to send a letter the moment Hedwig found him, and ask what to do. They'd ask him why he was where he was and… maybe he could explain things. Nevina eyed him cautiously, knowing what he was going to say before he even said it.

"Maybe if I sent them an owl we could work things out? I mean, you were nice to me and-"

The next thing he knew there was pain shooting up and down his legs and he fell to the floor. "Do not be so relaxed," She advised, kneeling so he could hear her. "I am the villain, remember?"

--

A few hours later Harry awoke from a dream where he had been locked in a cage and carried off, far underneath the ground. Then they put him in another cage, larger, yet this one had a bullet proof glass wall on one side and was steal on every other side. He felt something around his neck and looked down to reveal a chain and collar. Harry jumped and found himself feeling extremely weak, like he'd been through surgery and had just woken up. He looked to the window and saw Remus, he ran over and pressed his hands against the glass. Remus shook his head and started to walk away. Sirius was there. Harry had screamed his name and Sirius pounded on the glass, yet couldn't break it. He tried and tried and Harry pounded on his own side, yet nothing happened except they both ended up hurt and exhausted. Dumbledore was there suddenly and Sirius vanished. Dumbledore sighed deeply as if realizing the inevitable, and slowly vanished.

Harry screamed and cursed, yet no one came. He felt a jerk from the collar as the lights went out. Harry saw a small glint of something and then a piercing stab into his side, red flashed before his eyes and he awoke with a start. Breathing hard. He groped blindly for his glasses and found them on the floor, next to him. He glanced around and saw Nevina a few yards away. She was looking for something. Harry pulled himself to his feet. The area he found himself in now looked like a junk yard. In a flash he leapt forward to attack her, though she saw it coming and simply stepped into stance and pushed him past.

"Good idea, hot shot," she mocked. "Drugged and still fighting."

"I thought you were told not to hurt me?" Harry growled back, feeling tired.

"I said "let's assume"," Nevina reminded him. "And shut up I'm going to take you back to the meeting house."

"How and why?" Harry replied icily.

"I don't take human prisoners and I know a guy that wouldn't mind if I borrowed his car… once I find the keys."

Harry shook his head. "And you don't suppose you could have just told me this?"

Nevina shrugged and glanced back at him. "We're not friends."

"That's obvious," Harry muttered, spotting a silver key and tossing it to her. Nevina caught it and shoved it into a nearby storage locker. The door opened and she entered only to emerge later, driving a racing bike.

"You said car," Harry intoned, unimpressed.

"Would you like me to hit you?" Nevina hissed. "Just get on and shut up. I get you back and you leave me alone." She put on a black helmet, yet Harry could sense her piercing eyes on him.

"Deal," Harry sighed as she tossed him a helmet. He looked at it skeptically. It, like her own, was in bad condition. "...I think wearing a plastic bag might have the same safety as this helmet," He mumbled.

"It's not for safety, idiot, it's to hide your scar," Nevina shot back impatiently. "I'm not going to crash."

"Oh, that's right, you can predict the future," Harry retorted.

"We can use magic, stupid! If we start we start to fall I can stop us, but I'm not going to crash. Now get on!"

Harry got on behind her and they set out. Neither of them seemed in any way happy about the arrangement but Nevina had already stated that she, while evil, would treat him as a guest as they were not on the battlefield. Harry… well if he had not been so tired he would have cast one hell of jinx onto her. Nevina rode fast! She ripped past everything as if the bike was the night bus and didn't even need to accelerate the last block. They silently turned onto the neighborhood and stopped in front of the house.

"Umm... Thanks," Harry mumbled, stepping off the bike as she turned it off in order to quiet the engine

Nevina didn't answer. Harry took off the helmet and found Arthur Weasley suddenly beside him. Nevina couldn't have started the bike faster as Arthur reached out to grab her. She spun the bike, bracing her left foot on the ground, tilting the bike to the left and accelerating. Mad Eye was the next to show up. Nevina steadied the bike and shot off down the street. Mad Eye grabbed his wand, but she was already turning the corner.

"Who was that?" Arthur asked urgently.

"Girl, white hair, purple eyes," Moody stated, starring after Nevina.

"Umm," Harry started as he was pulled into the house. "I can explain."

Though the chance to explain never really came up for it seemed everyone who heard the news wanted their turn to yell at him. Mrs. Weasley was furious and Harry tried to do as Fred and George had instructed and cut her off before she got full steam. That, however, did not seem to be happening as she ignored his every sound and eventually her yelling actually made Remus feel sorry for him, though that was two hours later. Harry was then sent to bed, where Hermione was waiting to take up the yelling.

"Shut up!" Harry barked at her. "Like you really blame me! Everything is kept a damn secret from us and look, I'm alive! And I learned quite a bit, but you can go to Hell before I tell you any of it."

Hermione glowered fiercely at him. "I don't care what you learned, Harry! She is danger-"

"Really, that had slipped my mind!"

"Wow, Harry, you're back," Fred yawned as he apperated into the room with a loud pop. "Why didn't you tell us?"

With another pop, George appeared in the room, also looking deathly tired. "My, look whose here! I hadn't the slightest idea."

"Seriously you two, shut up," Ron yawned, sitting cross-legged on his bed.

Harry was more than prepared to do so and he crossed angrily to his bed and waved Hermione off with his hand. She let out a HUMPH! And stormed off with Fred closing the door behind her. They all turned to Harry.

"So," said George casually. "How have you been, hear anything interesting?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Sure, you let me go though five hours of yelling-"

"Three and a half," Fred cut him off. "And by tomorrow mum will have realized that you nearly died and either brood, or baby you… though I think it'll be brooding."

"I dunno, with that rider around she's been Super Mum," George stated, leaning against the wall. "I mean, yesterday I set off a bomb and she was mid-rant when he walked by and she stopped and told me to "totter off and find the rest of your lot", it was kinda scary."

"What rider?" Harry asked.

George grinned. "You first.'

Harry let out a groan and noticed the black portrait on the wall now had someone in it, though he ignored that as it finally wasn't saying anything. "Fine," he gave in, but then he heard her voice in his head, a piece of the conversation playing back. 'What's an angel?' 'I told you to ask-' 'They won't tell me! I've tried everything but as far as that subject is concerned their lips are closed.' '…Ask them to tell you about Kira.' 'Who?' 'She was a little girl I knew once.' "Kira," he whispered.

"Who?" asked Ron, the only one close enough to hear him.

Harry shook his head and lied back on his bed and began relaying the conversation, leaving choice parts out and more trying to organize the facts in his head then tell them to the others. When he was finished he shook his head again. "It doesn't add up. She is terrified of Dumbledore, but she seems to be hiding from the Death Eaters as well."

"But they've seen her at Death Eater meetings," Fred reminded him, having flopped down onto Ron's bed. "She's always around them."

"Yeah, but she's always around us too it seems, though we hardly ever see her," George put in, kicking out at nothing. "She's evil, but that doesn't mean she's on His side…. Look at Snape."

"I'd rather not," Fred chuckled.

"She calls herself the villain, but she plays everything like it's on stage," Harry pondered, more to himself than to anyone else. "You interrupt the scenes and she acts differently."

Ron sat up from his very lazy position and let out an enormous yawn as he tried to formulate the question, "Buhwhydossheacduhwayshedudsivshedoteil."

"What?" George asked, totally lost.

"But why does she act the way she does if she's not evil," Fred translated, fanning the yawn away with a piece of parchment.

"Well she started out kinda evil, didn't she," George stated, playing with some kind of new prank.

"Well we already know she is crazy," Fred reminded them. "Remember, that Irving guy basically said she went over the deep end."

Harry nodded. It did seem that she wasn't exactly sane. "Psycho, yeah," he agreed. "But… I don't know if she is evil."

"'course she is!" Fred exclaimed. "Do I really need to recap what has happened so far?"

"Yeah, I mean," Ron nodded. "I'm terribly glad she didn't off you tonight, Harry, but ordinarily she would have."

"I guess you're right," Harry agreed exhaustedly. Nevina was a rude, cynical brat who had not really been nice to him so much as just dealt with him as someone had told her not to kill him. "So… the rider?"

"Right!" Fred slid of the bed and turned to look at Harry. "I don't know his name, but he's definitely a rider."

"He's scary-looking to me," Ron admitted. "With that patch over his eye and all."

"Not a patch, really… More like a bandage. Anyway I don't think they eye is blind… I get the feeling that it's always watching," shuddered Fred.

"Sleep!" Mrs. Weasley ordered, rapping on their door.

Fred and George poofed back upstairs and left Harry and Ron to turn out the lights and give in to exhaustion.

--

HAPPY NEW YEAR!


End file.
